PARIS 
IN AMERICA. 

BY 

DE. RENE LEFEBVEE, 

PARISIAN 
de la Soci6t6 des Contribuables de France et des Administrgs de Paris ; 
DK3 SOCIETES PHILADELPHIQUE ET PHILHARMONIQUE D'ALISB ET D'ALAISE, KTO. ; 
PE LA REAL ACAdImIA DE LOS TONTOS DE GUISANDO ; 
^ • Pastore nelV Arcadia in Brenta (deito Meliheo VIntronato) 

\ SD^itgtteb beg Q5rc§- unb ^Iein>Teiitfd)ett Jtarren-Canbtag^; 

\ aJiitgtieb ber ^. Jt. J^an«.n)urft=5Ifabemte ju ©anfeborf ; 

MEMBER OF THE TARLETON CLUB, OF COVENTRY, F. R. F. S. M. A. D. D.,ETC. 

COMMANDEUR DE L'ORDRE GRAND DUCAL BELLA CIVETTA ; 

CHEVALIER DU MERLE BLANC (LXXT.IX® CLASSE) AVEC PLAQUE 

ETC., ETC. 

Mq-ri somnia. 
( fiDOUARD LABOULAYE. ) 

TRANSLATED BY 

MARY L. BOOTH, 

TBANSLATOR OF MM. DE GASPARIN AND COCHIN'S WORKS ON AMERICA, ETC. 




XEW YORK: 
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET. 

1863. 



Enteeed according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 

CHARLES SCRIBNER, 

In the Clerk's Oflice of the District Coart of the United States for the Southern District 
of New York. 






V' 



W. H. TiifSON, Stereotyper. John F. Trow, Printer. 



TEANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 



At a time when it is the fashion of a faction among us to 
carp at American institutions and greatness ; to declare that de- 
mocracy is a failure ; that the masses are incompetent to govern 
themselves ; that the titled inequality of Europe is better than 
the glorious equality which proclaims us all sovereigns, and pre- 
destines no one to the humiliation of being obliged to bow his 
head at home or abroad, and acknowledge another his superior ; 
and to ape this inequality by striving to raise up factitious social 
distinctions — at such a time, the appearance of a work like the 
present cannot fail to be of marked utility. A profound, saga- 
cious and acute student of the United States, bringing to the 
research an appreciation and love of liberty and democracy, as 
embodied in the ideal of our Republic, M. Laboulaye, well styled 
in Paris le plus americain de tous les Frangais, and whose know- 
ledge of America is perhaps greater than that of any other man 
in Europe, was admirably calculated to draw a parallel between 
the practical workings of these principles in America, and the 
effects of monarchism in Europe, which may lead us as a na- 
tion to set a higher value on the blessings within our grasp, and 
more fully to realize the picture which our friend has drawn of 

lii 



iv tbanslatok's preface. 

us. Nor is this picture wholly eulogistic. On looking closely 
the reader will discover many a pungent satire on our absurdi- 
ties, follies and shortcomings, which we would do well not to 
pass by unheeded. Perhaps some brief note of the author him- 
self may not be an ill-timed introduction to the work. 

;^douard Kene Lefebvre Laboulaye was born in Paris in 1811, 
where he studied law, and first became known through a " His- 
tory of the Law of Keal Estate, from Oonstantine to the Present 
Times," published in 183&, and crowned by the Academy of 
Inscriptions and Belles Lettres. This was followed, in 1842, by 
a life of the celebrated German jurist Frederick Charles do 
Savigny. In the same year, he became advocate in the Royal 
Court of Paris. In 1843 he published " Researches on the Civil 
and Political Condition of Woman from the Romans to the Pre- 
sent Times" — a work crowned by the Academy of Moral and 
Political Sciences, and in 1845 an " Essay on the Criminal Law of 
the Romans, respecting the Responsibility of Magistrates," which 
was also crowned by the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles 
Lettres. In 1849 he was chosen a member of the latter aca- 
demy, and in the same year Professor of Comparative Legis- 
lation in the College de France. Among his other writings may 
be quoted, " The Political History of the United States, A.D. 
1620-1783," the first volume only of which has yet appeared 
(1855) ; " Contemporary Studies on Germany and the Slavic 
Nations," (1855), and on " Religious Liberty," (1856) ; " Souve- 
nirs of a Traveller," (1857) ; " Studies on Literary Property in 
France and England," (1858) ; an Arabic novel, " Abdallah," 
(1859), and "Moral and Political Studies," (1861). He has 
also made numerous translations: ""Walter's History of Civil 
Proceedings among the Romans," (1845) ; " The Social Works 



TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. Y 

of Channing," preceded by an "Essay on His Life and 
Doctrines," (1854) ; " Channing's Slavery," preceded by a 
"Preface," and " Study on Slavery in the United States," (1855), 
etc. He has also edited various legal works, and contributed 
largely to to the I^evue de legislation et jurisprudence ; is one of 
the directors of the Revue historique de droit frangais et et- 
ranjer^ and collaborateur of the Journal des Debats, Revue ger- 
maniqtie, Revue nationale, etc. His lectures this season in the 
College de France on the American Eevolution have attracted 
especial attention and applause. 

In a recent lecture, after commenting on the intense sympa- 
thy which existed twenty or thirty years ago between Ameri- 
cans and Frenchmen, when all seemed inspired with the friend- 
ship of Lafayette and Washington, M. Laboulaye asked : " Why 
is it that this friendship has cooled ? Why is it that the name 
of American is not so dear to us as it was in those days ? It is 
due to slavery. We had always hoped that something would 
be done to put an end to an institution which was regarded by 
the founders of the Constitution as fraught with peril to the 
country; but, instead of this, the partisans of slavery having ob- 
tained the ascendant, have continually been engaged in efforts 
to perpetuate it and extend its limits, so that we have ceased to 
feel the same interest in Americans." He concluded the same 
lecture with the words: "America is the future of civilization ; 
America is the future of liberty. When her territory shall be- 
come as populous as that of France, 200,000,000 freemen will 
occupy it, with a system of government which will, with irre- 
fdstible force, draw all the world to follow the example. It is 
for this that I am so interested in American progress ; it is for 
this that I wish to direct your attention toward it. You, 



VI 



young men, particularly ; for it is to you that the world looks 
for advancement." 

The appearance of Paris en Amerique has excited marked 
attention in France, where, although it is somewhat wounding 
to th€ self-love of the French nation, it passed in two weeks to 
a, third edition. "While it exhibits so intimate a knowledge 
of American peculiarities, that Americans in Paris refuse to 
believe that the author has never visited this country, which 
however is the case. 

That our nation may justify the wishes and faith of its enthu- 
siastic champion ; that it may achieve the great work which it 
has undertaken ; that it may continue the standard-bearer of 
liberty and, the blessings of peace once regained, resume its on- 
ward course as a truly free nation, glorying in its republican in- 
stitutions, and esteeming the sovereign title of American citi- 
zen above that of all nobility, as the lord is above his follower, 
let hini rank as high as he may — with these earnest wishes, I 
submit this volume to the perusal of my countrymen. 

Mart L. Booth. 



New York, May 1, 1863. 



TO THE READER. 



Feiendly reader, I offer thee this little book, written for thy 
pleasure and mine. I dedicate it neither to fortune nor glorj ; 
fortune is a damsel that, for six thousand years, has pursued 
after the young ; glory is a vivandiere that takes delight only 
in soldiers. I am old, I have killed no one, therefore I have no 
longer any wish but to seek the truth in my own guise, and to 
tell it in my own fashion. If I have not all the gravity of an 
ox, a goose, or a — (choose whatever name you like), forgive me ^ 
the first acts of life make us weep enough to justify us in laugh- 
ing before the curtain falls. When one has lost his illusions of 
twenty, he takes neither the comedy nor the comedians in 
earnest. 

If this little book please thee, it is well ; if it scandalize thee, 
it is better ; if thou castest it aside, thou art wrong ; if thou 
comprehendest it, thou hast known it longer than Machiavel. 
Make it the breviary of thy wasted hours ; thou wilt not regret 
it : IiTon est Mc piscis omnium. The paradoxes of the eve are 
the truths of the morrow. A word to the wise is sufficient. 

One day, perhaps, by the light of my lamp, thou wilt see all 
the deformity of the idols which thou adorest to-day; perhaps, 
too, beyond the decreasing shadows, thou wilt perceive, in all 



Vlll TO THE READER. 

the charm of her immortal smile, Lihertj, the daughter of the 
Gospel, the sister of justice and pitj, the mother of equality, 
abundance and peace. On that day, friendly reader, do not 
suffer the flame which I confide to thee to die out ; enlighten, 
enlighten that youth which already presses on our footsteps and 
urges us forward, while asking us the path of the future. That 
it may be madder than its fathers, but in a different way, is my 
prayer and hope. 

Upon which, I pray God to preserve thee from ignorant men 
and fools. As to the wicked, it is thy own affair; life is a 
mel6e : thou art born a soldier, defend thyself ; or still better, 
take back from the Americans the old motto of France, For- 
ward I always and everywhere^ forward I 

Adieu, friend, 

Rene Lefebvee. 
New Liberty (Virginia), Juhj 4, 1862. 



PARIS IN AMERICA. 



iEGKI SOMMA. 

CHAPTER I. 

AN AMERICAN MEDIUM. 

"You are respectfully invited to attend the psychical and 
medianimic soiree of Mr. Jonathan Dream, spiritual and trans- 
cendental medium of Salem (Mass.), to be given next Tuesday, 
April 1st, at his residence, ISTo. 33 rue de la Lune. 

" Somnambulism, trance, vision, prevision, prophecy, second 
sight, distant sight, divination, penetration, abstraction of 
thought, evocations; preternatural conversation, poetry and 
chirography ; thoughts from beyond the tomb, arcana of the 
future life unveiled, etc. etc. 

" Doors closed at eight o'cloch 2Jrecisely /''' 

" Pai'dieu /" thought I, again reading the letter, " I 
shall not be sorry to make acquaintance with an Ameri- 
can medium, a brother in experimental and positive 
pneumatology / for I too am a medium. I am not only 
a simple citizen of Paris; I have already, as well as 
others, evoked Caesar, Napoleon, Voltaire, Madame de 
Pompadour, Ninon, etc ; and even, if it must be told, 
whatever it may cost my modesty, these illustrious per- 
sonages have not eclipsed me by their genius ; all have 

1* 9 



10 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

answered me as if I had whispered them. Let us see 
whether Mr. Jonathan Dream, with his American pre- 
tensions, has more spirit or more spirits than your 
servant, Daniel Lefebvre, D.M.P., the pupil in spiritism 
of M. Hornung of Berlin, M. de Reichenbach, and 
Baron de Guldenstubbe. The medium will find more 
than his match." 

In a fine suit of rooms, at the bottom of a drawing- 
room, hermetically closed, but blazing with light (which 
is not usually the case in our spiritual meetings), I found 
Mr. Jonathan Dream seated before a round table. He 
had the melancholy gaze and inspired countenance of 
sibyls. Opposite him sat half-a-dozen adepts, with a 
meditative air — nervous people, women not understood, 
majors or widows on the retired list — the audience is 
always the same. Each one was writing on a slip of 
paper the names of the dead whom he wished to inter- 
rogate ; I did like the rest. 

The names were jumbled together in a hat, and the 
first that was drawn was that of Joseph de Maistre. 
Jonathan meditated a moment, put his hand to his ear 
to listen to the voice which whispered to him, and wrote 
rapidly as follows : 

"There is no sterile knowledge; all knowledge is like that 
spoken of in the Bible — Adam knew Eve, and she brought 
forth. 

" No creed, no credit." 

" Ah, ah !" thought I, " these paradoxes sound well, 
they have all the swaggering of their father ; only it 
seems to me that I have seen them somewhere else — in 
Baader, if I am not mistaken. After all, perhaps there 
is no literary property on high, and, for the sake of dis- 



AN AMEKICAN MEDIUM. 11 

traction, it is possible that one amuses himself there by 
pilfering ideas." 

Hippocrates came next ; he had the kindness to speak 
French, and his shadow wrote as follows : 

" The man who thinks most is the one who digests least ; 
other things being equal, he who thinks least is he who digests 
best." 

" Alas !" said a little woman, with a thin face buried 
beneath waves of grey hair, " this is a doctor's answer, 
a coarse answer, made by men and for men. It is not 

the thought which preys upon the heart, it is" 

And she sighed. 

Nostradamus was summoned, and his opinion asked on 
the future of Poland, France and Italy. This is the 
answer of the great diviner, a sublime genius who always 
left to others the care of understanding what he said : 

" En France, Italie et Pologne, 
Beauconp d'esprit, pen de vergogne ; 
En France, Pologne, Italie, 
On est sage apres la folie ; 
En Italia, Pologne et France, 
Moins de bonheur que d'esperance." * 

We were forced to content ourselves with this oracle, 
too profound to be clear. It was Kosciusko's turn. 
This evening, the Polish Washington was in a bad 

* In France, Italy and Poland, 
Much wit, little shame ; 
In France, Poland and Italy, 
One is wise according to folly ; 
In Italy, Poland and France, 
Less happiness than hope. 



12 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

humor; nothing could be obtained from him but the 
Latin motto, "Z?^ servitute dolor, in lihertate labor f^ 
In servitude suffering, in liberty labor. Three times he 
was questioned, three times he made this sullen reply, 
and flung it in our face as a reproach that we had even 
ceased to feel. 

The last slip of paper demanded that Don Quixote, 
Tom Jones, Robinson Crusoe or Werther should be 
questioned ; which made the coenaculum laugh, although, 
to tell the truth, it had little wish to do so. The au- 
thor of this piece of impertinence, I am ashamed to 
confess, was myself. I had been so long wearied both 
of the dead and the living, that I should have been 
delighted to know what entered the brain of men who 
had never existed. 

Jonathan Dream flung the imlucky billet into the fire, 
announced that the sitting was over, and accompanied us 
to the door with many bows. As I was about to go, he 
laid his hand on my shoulder, and entreated me to 
remain. 

Once alone — "It was you, brother," said he with a 
peculiar smile, " that addressed to me a demand which 
these profane beings deem indiscreet ; perhaps even you 
are of their opinion. Blind man, who hast never 
flithomed the arcana of eternal truth ! Do you fancy 
that Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Robinson Crusoe 
and Friday, Tom Jones and Sophie never lived ? "What ! 
man cannot create an atom of matter, yet you suppose 
that he can create entire souls who will never perish. 
Do you not believe in Don Quixote more than in all the 
Artaxerxes? Is not Robinson Crusoe more living to 
you than the Drakes and Magellans ?" 

" What ! the ingenious Don Quixote has lived ? And 



AN AMERICAN MEDIUM. 13 

I can talk with the wise governor of the island of Bara- 
taria ?" 

" Doubtless. Know then, what is a poet. He is a 
seer, a prophet, who mounts to the invisible world ; 
there, among the millions of beings who once lived 
and whose remembrance is lost here below, he chooses 
those whom he wishes to revive in the memory 
of mankind. He evokes them, he listens to them, he 
writes under their dictation. What foolish humanity 
takes for an invention of the artist is only a confession 
of the unknown dead ; but you, a medium, or pretending 
to be such, how is it that you do not yourself recognize 
a preternatural voice? How is it that you sufter your- 
self to be deceived like the crowd ? Are you so little 
advanced then in the ways of mediumship ?" 

While speaking thus, Jonathan Dream threw his head 
backwards, and waving his arms and opening and shut- 
ting his hands, advanced towards me as if to drown me 
with his fluid. 

" Brother," said I, " you are, I see, a man of wit, 
although a medium ; I have no doubt that you could 
write us a little speech in the style of Don Quixote, or 
some new proverbs worthy of Sancho Panza. But we 
are alone, and both of us are augurs ; we have the right 
to look each other in the face, and even to laugh while 
looking. Stop where you are, and believe that I wish 
you a happy success. In France, the thing is easy ; the 
people who believes itself the most spiritucl in the 
world, is naturally the easiest to lead by the nose. 
Ask the women of Paris." 

" Stop !" cried my magician in a furious tone. " Am 
I mistaken ? Are you a false brother ? Do you take 
me for a charlatan, a mystifier, a mountebank ? Know 



14 PAUIS IN A^IERICA. 

that Jonathan Dream never spoke a word that was not 
true. Ah ! you doubt my power, my little gentleman. 
What proof of it do you wish ? Shall I take away all 
your ideas, which would not be difficult ; shall I put you 
to sleep, make you pass through cold, heat, wind and 
rain; shall I?" 

" No magnetism," said I, " I know that there is in it 
a natural phenomenon, as yet imperfectly known, of 
which you take advantage. If you wish to convince 
me, do not begin by putting me to sleep. We are not 
at the Academy." 

" Well !" said he, fixing his glittering eyes upon me. 
"What would you say if I transported you to America?" 

" I ? I must see it to believe it." 

"Yes, you," he exclaimed, "and not only you, but 
your wife, your children, your neighbors, your house, 
your street, and, if you say the word, all Paris. Yes," 
added he, with feverish agitation, " yes, if I will it, 
to-morrow morning, Paris will be in Massachusetts; 
there will be no longer on the shores of the Seine but an 
inhabited plain." 

" My dear sir, you should sell your secret to the 
prefect of the Seine ; it would perhaps save us many 
millions. In the absence of the Parisians, there might 
be made for them a wholly new, regular and monotonous 
Paris like N"ew York ; a Paris without past, without 
monuments, without memories ; all our architects and 
administrators would be ready to die with joy." 

" You jest," said Jonathan, " you are afraid. I repeat 
it to you, to-morrow, if I wish, Paris will be in Massa- 
chusetts and Versailles with it. Do you accept the chal- 
lenge?" 

" Yes, ceriamly, I accept it," answered I, laughing. 



AN AMEEICAN MEDIUM. 16 

K"evertheless, the assurance of this devil of a fellow 
troubled me. I was no stranger to gasconade ; I read 
twenty journals a day, and I have heard more than one 
minister on the rostrum ; but this voice of one of the 
ilkiminati awed me despite myself. 

"- Take this box," said the magician in an imperious 
tone ; " open it ; there are two pills, one for you and the 
other for me ; take which you Hke and ask me no ques- 
tions." 

I had gone too far to draw back. I swallowed one of 
the globules, Jonathan Dream took the other, and bade 
me adieu, saying in a sepulchral voice, " till to-morrow, 
on the other side of the ocean." 

Once in the street, I found myself in a singular state. 
I felt brisker, lighter and more elastic than ever was 
human being ; it seemed as if with a bound I could touch 
the horns of the moon, just rising above the horizon. 
All my senses were of incredible acuteness. From the 
Place de la Concorde, I saw the carriages turning the 
corner of the Arc de I'Etoile, I heard the ticking of the 
hand that marked the hour on the clock of the Tuileries. 
The blood coursed through my veins with unheard-of 
warmth and velocity. I asked myself whether some 
invisible hand had not already borne me beyond the 
Atlantic. To reassure myself, I looked at the pale cres- 
cent slowly mounting in the sky ; sure of not having 
changed latitude, I returned to my house, ashamed of 
my credulity, and fell asleep, laughing at Jonathan 
Dream and his absurd threats. 



16 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER II. 

IS IT A DREAM? 

During the night, I had a dream. Was it a dream ? 
Jonathan, seated at my pillow, was looking at me with 
a mocking air. 

" Well !" said he, " Mr. Incredulous, how do you find 
yourself after your journey? The voyage has not 
fatigued you over much ?" 

" The voyage !" murmured I, " I have not stirred 
from my bed." 

" No, but you are in America. Do not s]3ring out of 
bed like a madman. Wait till I give you some instruc- 
tions, that the shock may not kill you. In the first 
place, I have turned your house topsy-turvy. In a free 
country, men do not live in barracks, pell-mell, without 
repose and dignity. Of each of those drawers, which 
you call etages, I have made an American dwelling ; 
which I have disposed and furnished in my own manner, 
and have joined to it a little garden. To arrange thus 
the forty thousand houses of Paris has taken me two 
hours, I do not regret it ; here you are independent at 
home, it is the first of all liberties. Henceforth you Avill 
not have to sufier from your neighbors, and you will no 
longer make them suffer. The odor of the kitchen and sta- 
bles, the cries of women, children and nurses, the mewing 
of cats and pianos, all is at an end. You are no longer a 
member of a convict prison or hospital, a packed herring ; 
you are a man ; you have a family and a fireside." 



IS IT A DREAM? ^ 17 

" My house turned topsy-turvy ! I am ruined ; what 
have you done with my lodgers ?" 

" Be easy ; they are here, each m a commodious little 
house. They are now tenants who will pay you their 
rent for half a century, without your needing every 
three years to surprise each other, and to vie with each 
other in artifice. I have put at your right, M. Leverd, 
the grocer, now Mr. Green. M. Petit, the banker on 
the first floor, has become Mr. Little, and is no less a 
personage with his millions. M. Reynard, the attorney, 
is called Lawyer Fox, and has not on this account lost a 
single one of his tricks. On your left, you will find the 
brave Colonel Saint-Jean, become the gallant Colonel 
St. John, with all his rheumatism ; and lastly, M. Rose, 
the druggist, who is neither less majestic nor less impor- 
tant since he has been called Mr. Rose. As to you, my 
dear Lefebvre, here you a.re, become by right of immi- 
gration, Dr. Smith, and a member of the most numerous 
family that has sprung from the Anglo-Saxon stock. 
Make a fortune by killing or curing your patients of the 
New World ; you will find no lack of cousins." 

I attempted to cry out — the eyes of my terrible visitor 
nailed me to my bed. " By the way," said he, laughing, 
" you will be somewhat astonished to hear your wife, 
children, and neighbors speak English through their 
nose. They have left their memory in the Old World, 
and are no longer but pure-blooded Yankees. An admi- 
rable efiect of climate, already remarked by the prince 
of mediums, the great Hippocrates ! Dogs no longer 
bark on approaching the pole ; wheat, under the equator, 
is nothing but sterile couch grass ; a Yankee in Paris 
believes himself born a gentleman ; a Frenchman in the 
United States loses the abhorrence of liberty. As to 



18 ^ PARIS IN AMERICA. 

you, Mr. Incredulous, I have left you both your preju- 
dices and your memories. I wish you to judge of my 
power with full knowledge of the case. You shall 
know whether Jonathan Dream is a medium ; here you 
are sewed in an American skin, and you will not leave 
it except at my good pleasure." 

" But I cannot speak English," I exclaimed ; I stopped 
suddenly, frightened at whistling like a bird. 

"That's not bad," said the insupportable mocker, 
" before two days are over, you will confound shall and 
will, these and those^ with all the ease and grace of a 
Scotchman. Adieu," added he, rising; "adieu, I am 
expected at midnight by the Sultan, at his harem in 
Constantinople ; at two o'clock, I must be in London, 
and I shall see the sun rise at Pekin. A last counsel-— 
remember that a wise man is astonished at nothing. If 
you should chance to see a strange figure about yoii, 
don't shout the devil; you will be shut up with our 
lunatics, which would impede your observations." 

I started up ; three handfuls of fluid, flung in my fac-e, 
rendered me mute and motionless. My betrayer saluted 
me with a sardonic laugh ; then, seizing a moonbeam 
which trailed into the room, he wound it about his waist, 
darted through the window and vanished in air. Fright, 
magnetism or sleep, I felt myself overpowered : 

" I' venni men, cosi com' io morisse, 
E caddi, come corpo morto cade." 



8AMB0. _ 19 



CHAPTER III. 

SAMBO. 

When I again came to myself, it was daylight. My 
son was singing the Miserere from Trovatore at the top 
of his voice ; my daughter, a pupil of Thalberg, was 
playing with incomparable hrio the variations of Sturm 
on a varied air of Donner. In the distance, my wife 
was quarreling with the nurse, who answered her in a 
shrill tone. Nothing was changed in my peaceful abode ; 
the pangs of the night were only an idle dream ; freed 
from these chimerical terrors, I might, according to my 
tranquil habit, dream with open eyes whilo awaiting the 
hour of breakfast. 

At seven o'clock, according to custom, the servant 
entered my room and brought me the journal. He 
opened the window and put aside the blinds ; the bright- 
ness of the sun and sharpness of the air affected me 
most agreeably. I turned my head towards the light ; — 
horror ! My hair stood on end, I had not even strength 
to cry out. 

In front of me, smiling and dancing, was a negro, with 
teeth like piano keys, and two enormous red lips over- 
shadowing his nose and chin. Dressed wholly in white, 
as if afraid of not appearing black enough, the animal 
approached me, shaking his woolly head and rolling his 
great eyes. 

" Massa slept well," sung he, " Sambo very glad." 

I closed my eyes to drive away this nightmare ; my 



20 



PAEIS IN AMEEICA. 



heart beat almost to bursting ; when I ventured to look 
up, I was alone. To spring from the bed, run to the win- 
dow, and feel my hands and head was the work of an 
instant. Opposite me was a row of small houses, ranged 
like pasteboard monks, three printing establishments, 
six newspaper offices, placards everywhere, wasted water 
overflowing the gutters. In the street were busy, silent 
men, hastening along, with. their hands in their pockets, 
doubtless to hide revolvers there — no noise, no cries, no 
loungers, no cigars, no coffee-houses, and, as far as my 
eye could reach, not a sergent de ville^ not a gendarme. 
It was all over with me ; I was in America, unknown, 
alone, in a country without government, without armies, 
without pohce, in the midst of a savage, violent and 
cupiditous people. I was lost ! 

V More forsaken, more desolate than Crusoe after his 
shipwreck, I let myself fall into an easy chair, which 
immediately began to dance beneath me. I sprang up, 
trembhng. I looked in the glass. Alas ! I no longer 
recognized myself In front of me vf as a lank man, with 
a bald forehead, sprinkled with a few red hairs, and a 
freckled face, framed with flaming whiskers, which flut- 
tered upon the shoulders. See what the malice of fate 
had made a Parisian of the Chaussee-d'Antin ! I was 
pale ; my teeth chattered ; the cold chilled the very mar- 
row of my bones. " Be a man !" exclaimed I to myself. 
" I have a family, and the French name to maintain. I 
must regain over my senses the empire that is escaping 
me. Adversity makes heroes !" S 

I wished to call ; there was no bell. I perceived a 
brass knob, which I pressed by chance. Suddenly, 
Sambo appeared, like one of those devils which spring 
from a box, bowing and thrusting out their tongue. 



SAMBO. 21 

" Fire !" I exclaimed, " bring me fire. I want a large 
fire in tlie fire-place." 

"Hasn't Massa any matches?" said Sambo, pointing 
to a box on the mantel. " Can't Massa stoop down ?" 
added he, in an ironical tone. Then, turning a screw at 
the bottom of the fire-place, and putting a match to the 
brass log, a thousand tongues of fire spouted forth. 
" Oh dear !" exclaimed, he, on going out, "must a poor 
negro be disturbed in this way Avhen he is sunning him- 
self?" 

"A savage people," thought I, approaching the fire 
and reanimating myself by its soft and equal heat — " a 
savage people, that has neither shovel, nor tongs, nor 
bellows, nor charcoal, nor smoke; a barbarous people, 
that does not even know the pleasure of stirring the fire ! 
To turn a screw to kindle, extinguish, or regulate one's 
fire is truly the Avork of a race without poetry, that leaves 
nothing to the unforeseen, and that is afraid of losing a 
moment, because time is money." 

Once warmed, I thought of my toilette. I had before 
me a mahogany table, overloaded with copper swans' 
heads, and other ornaments in bad taste, but furnished 
with that English china which dehghts the eye by its 
richness of color and design. There were upon this 
table, and in profusion, brushes, sponges, soaps, vinegars, 
pomatums, etc., but not a drop of water. I again 
pressed the knob, and Sambo reentered, more sulky 
than at his departure. 

" Hot and cold water for my toilette ; quick, I am in 
haste !" 

" This is too much !" cried Sambo. " Massa can't turn 
the hot and cold water faucets there in the corner ? Upon 
my word, it is enough to make one give warning. I can't 



22 PARIS IN ASIERICA. 

Stay with a master that doesn't know how to see." And 
he went out, slamming the door in my face. 

" Hot and cold water at any moment, and everywhere! 
This is convenient," thought I ; " but it is the invention 
of a people that thinks only of its comfort. Thank God, 
we have not come to this ! Centuries will pass before 
glorious France wdll stoop to this search for luxury, this 
effeminate cleanliness." 

!N"othing refreshes the ideas so much as shaving. 
Having trimmed my beard, I found myself quite another 
man* I even began to be reconciled with my long vis- 
age and front teeth. " If I were to take a bath," thought 
I, '' I would be perfectly composed. I could brave with 
more courage the sight of my wife and children. Per- 
haps, alas ! they are no less changed than I !" I rang. 
Sambo appeared, with cast down looks. 

" My good fellow, where is there a bathing establish- 
ment in the city ? Show me the way." 

" A bathing establishment, Massa ! For what ?" 

I shrugged my shoulders. " Blockhead, to bathe in, 
it would seem." 

" Massa wants to take a bath," said Sambo, gazing at 
me with mingled surprise and affright. " And it was for 
this that Massa disturbed me ?" 

"Of course." 

" This is too much !" cried the negro, tearing out a 
handful of hair. " Wliat ! There is a bath-room by the 
side of every bedchamber, and Massa makes Sambo come 
up stairs to ask him, ' Where shall I bathe V An Ameri- 
can isn't to be made a fool of in this way." And pushing 
open a little door concealed beneath the hangings, the 
negro made me enter an elegant closet, in which was a 
marble bath-tub. 



SAMBO. 23 

" Come, Sambo," smig he, in a furious but comical 
tone, " turn the faucet for Massa ; the cold-water faucet, 
the hot- water faucet ; get the bath ready; put the linen 
to warm by the register ; play the nurse. Sambo ; Massa 
does not know how to use his hands !" 

I had nothing to do but to be silent. I let Sambo 
exhaust his rage, and endeavored not to see that he 
thrust out his tongue at me. But I execrated to myself 
these horrible American houses ; unsocial abodes ; true 
prisons, from which one cannot go out, since he finds 
ready at hand all that at Paris we have the pleasure of 
going in quest of outside our houses, at a dear rate, it is 
true, but at a great distance. 



24 PAEI8 IN AMEEIOA. 



CHAPTER IV. 



AT HOME. 



Quitting the bath without having found composure 
there, I pensively descended the httle staircase which led 
to the ground floor. What had been done with my 
house ? Under what mask was I about to find my fam- 
ily ? I entered the dining-room, no one was there ; I 
went into the parlor, there was no one. Meanwhile, I 
looked about the two apartments, to accustom myself to 
the appearance of my new dwelUng. 

In the dining-room, which was furnished with a car- 
pet, the only ornament was a heavy old mahogany chest, 
loaded with china cups, and britannia tea-urns brighter 
than silver. In front of the buffet, were three indifierent 
engravings ; in the middle, Penn treating with the Indians 
under the Shakamaxon elm ; on the right, the portrait of 
"Washington, standing, with his horse and negro ; on the 
left, the image of the sovereign, joro tempore^ Honest Old 
Abe — in other words, the honorable Abraham Lincoln, 
once rail-splitter, now president of the United States. 

" These, then," I cried, "are the protecting genii of 
my new fireside — mine, a Frenchman, reared in the wor- 
ship of strength and success. A pacific Quaker ; a gen- 
eral who, having it in his power to be emperor of the 
i^ew World, humbled himself so far as to remain the first 
magistrate of a free people ; a workingman, become law- 
yer by dint of labor, and president of his country by 



AT HOME. 25 

chance — such are the heroes of America ! In this half 
savage land, the code of morals of the great men is 
also that of the citizens. What can be expected from a 
nation with such prejudices ? It will never give a Cresar 
to the world ! " 

In the parlor was a rosewood piano, a desk loaded 
with papers^ and a book-case filled with books. Three 
or four Bibles figured therein, among the works of 
Francis Quarles, Bunyan, Jeremy Taylor, Law, Jonathan 
Edwards and Channing; great men, doubtless, but 
whose names I read for the first time. I stopped there, 
having little taste for theology, even on the nights when 
I cannot sleep. Next came a few historians or moralists 
— Franklin, Emerson, Marshall, Washmgton Irving, Lo- 
throp Motley, and Ticknor ; then a few didactic novels, 
and a host of English, American, German, and even 
Spanish poets. And France — where was she ? Alas ! 
to represent my country, I found nothing but a TeU- 
maque^ with the pronunciation figured, or rather dis- 
figured, in English. And to think that perhaps some 
time, to celebrate her father's birthday, my daughter, 
my dear Susan, would recite to me, with her rosy hps, 
Calepso ne povait se counsoUre diou departe d'loulis ! 

In spite I threw down the book, and went into the 
garden — a little corner of ground, shut in by four walls, 
ornamented with ivy and honeysuckle ; everywhere were 
lilacs, roses, and new flowers ; at the bottom was a little 
green-house and a Chinese kiosk, a convenient shelter to 
take tea, smoke a cigar, or gaze at the stars. No one 
was in the garden but Sambo, stretched on a white 
marble slab like a bronze statue. His face turned to- 
wards the sun and covered with flies, the negro, snoring, 
was resting from the cruel cares which I had caused 



26 PARIS IK AMERICA. 

him. The dog took advantage of being in my service 
to do nothing and sleep at full liberty. 

This solitary promenade in the habitation of the Sleep- 
ing Beauty in the Woods began to perplex me strangely. 
I was about to awaken Sambo, were it only for the 
pleasure of quarreling with a Christian, when I heard 
voices issuing from the sub-soil of the house, or, as the 
French- Americans say in their dialect, the basement^ a 
word which, I hope, will long be wanting in the diction- 
ary of the Academy. 

Having descended a few steps, I spied, at length, in a 
large kitchen, two women so much occupied that they 
did not hear the sound of my stej^s. The one whose 
back was turned towards me, but whom I immediately 
recognized by her voice, was my dear Jenny, the mother 
of my children ; the other, whom I was ere long to 
appreciate, was an enormous blonde, five feet eight 
inches high, who had rather the air of a Scotch grenadier 
than of one of the daughters of Eve. This was Martha 
the cook, a Pennsylvanian by birth, a Tunker by reUgiou 
— something like a Quaker — an excellent person, who 
scolded constantly, and who had but one fault, that of 
treating as a publican and sinner whoever wore a button 
on the dress or coat. To her exalted soul, the symbol 
of Christianity was not the cross, but a clasp. 

Judging from the earnestness of both women, and the 
words which they were eagerly exchanging, a great culi- 
nary work was being accomplished, at this moment. 
Jenny (was this indeed Madame Lefebvre?) was tying a 
shapeless mass of dough in a napkin, which she carefully 
deposited in a pot full of water. In her turn, Martha 
placed this precious vessel in an iron furnace, which 
occupied the whole length of the kitchen. This was a 



AT HOME. 



27 



monumental structure, with stories like a bouse, and I 
know not how many drawers and cupboards, from which 
the smoke was escaping. Ovens for baking and roasting, 
laundry, stove, hot water, hot air, everything was found 
in this monster furnace, which bore the inscription, like 
a triumphal arch — 

G. Chilson's Cooking Range, Boston. 

I doubt whether Satan himself, with all the resources 
at his disposal, ever invented a better heated furnace. 

When all Avas in place, and an army of pots and pans 
had been moved and ranged in line, my wife turned 
round, and uttered a cry of joy on seeing me. 

"Good morning, my love," said she; "I hope that 
you have slept well. You are looking at our prepara- 
tions ; it is a pudding, like the one you thought good the 
other day. I have just made it myself; I know your 
taste better than Martha. You will be pleased with me, 
I hope, and will reward me for all the trouble, or rather 
pleasure, which I take in serving you." 

Saying this, she approached me and offered me her 
forehead. Strange! It was my wife, and yet it was 
not she. There was the same face, the same features, as 
in the Old Worldj except that the end of the nose was 
somewhat reddened, but at the same time an indescriba- 
hle calmness and limpidity in the glance, gentleness in 
the speech, and affection in the gesture, which I had 
never remarked in our household in ancient Paris. I 
felt myself loved and cared for, and it delighted my 
heart. Without troubling myself, therefore, about Mar- 
tha and our twenty years' marriage, I tenderly embraced 
Madame Lefebvre— I mean, Mrs. Smith. Pardon me, 
Parisian husbands, I was in America ! 



28 PAKIS IN AMEEICA. 

" Martha," said my wife, taking off a kitchen apron 
and letting down her dress, which was tucked up and 
fastened behind, " Martha, go to Mr. Green's. His last 
coffee was not good ; it was Brazilian ; my husband likes 
none but Mauritius. Get a small, round kernel ; I will 
burn it myself. I have seen early cherries in market; 
buy enough to fill one of those nice pies which you make 
so well, and which my husband and children liked so 
much last summer. Tell Hoffman, the florist, that there 
are pinks everywhere except in our garden, and that my 
husband is waiting for the three new varieties he prom- 
ised me. Don't forget the hly w^hich I selected for Susan, 
and the geraniums which I ordered for Henry. Finally, 
take from the library Dr. Bellows' last speech on the 
state of the nation ; it is an eloquent and patriotic work, 
and my husband, who reads so well, will read it to us 
this evening. My children and I will enjoy it so much." 

"Weak hearts that we are ! I felt myself attracted and 
charmed by this new music, in which my name and my 
children's recurred at every measure. In Paris, in 
France, I heard quite a different strain. My wife had 
all the virtues, but her extreme modesty rendered life 
somewhat hard to me. To do like other people was the 
motto of Madame Lefebvre ; God knows what it cost me 
not to distinguish ourselves. To be lodged like other 
people^ we lived in a suit of rooms a hundred and ten 
steps high, in a princely hotel, it is true, and whose 
porter, who laughed at me, had a man servant and a 
floor rubber. To be waited on like other people^ we had 
a great rascal of a lacquey, a drunkard and liar, a mag- 
nificent dog in plush breeches and red waistcoat, who 
cost me dear, served me at cross purposes, and who 
permitted me neither to dress, nor eat, nor drink, in my 



AT HOME. 29 

own fashion. To be attired liJce other people.^ my wife 
and daughter must have dresses at an insane price, and 
crinolines, each of which filled a whole carriage. Lastly, 
to go lohere other people loent^ I was forced to run after 
invitations, and to smile on men whom at the bottom of 
my heart I despised with sovereign contempt. It was 
the custom. The fashionable world wished that fortune 
should be adored and men should ruin themselves to 
appear in it. I had taken care not to separate myself 
from good society ; this would have been originality, a 
vice in the worst possible taste, which France leaves to 
the English. Thanks to my wife and her wise counsels, 
we played a difficult part, I think, with propriety ; those 
who saw us every day, at a fixed hour, at the JBois^ must 
render us this justice. I venture to say that we main- 
tained our position at Paris, and that we led with honor 
the most busy life that can be imagined ; we paid twenty 
visits every morning, and never missed a soiree. All 
this was good ; but, must it be confessed ? in a savage 
country my grosser nature gained the ascendancy ; I was 
glad to hear nothing more oi other people^ it pleased me 
that my wife occupied herself only with me, and saw 
nothing beyond her husband, children, and house. I felt 
myself king in my habitation, and I was so well satisfied 
with my subjects and their obedience, that, in ascending 
the staircase, I passed my arm around Jenny's waist, and 
embraced my wife a second time, which made her blush 
prodigiously. " For shame, Mr. Smith !" murmured she, 
in a tone which made me believe that both she and I had 
grown twenty years younger. 



30 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER V. 

NO DOWRY. 

While Sambo fatigued himself with sleeping, and my 
wife and Martha laid the table and served breakfast, I 
set about reading the Paris Telegraph, an enormous 
cheap journal, which bore as its motto, " The world is 
governed too much." The coarse tone of this sheet dis- 
pleased me. Thank God ! we are given a better educa- 
tion. We are not suffered to acquire the odious habit 
of calling a cat a cat^ and JRollet a rascal. Who would 
believe, for instance, that the Paris Telegraph dared brand 
with the name of robber, and even of assassin, an honest 
millionaire who, by a mistake excusable without doubt, 
had furnished to the l^orthern army sixty thousand pairs 
of shoes with pasteboard soles, which had iUy resisted 
the dampness of the camps ? Do business in a country 
where so little respect is paid to great speculations ! 

All the journal was in this deplorable tone. Nothing 
escaped the invectives of this miserable gazetteer. Such 
a law was abominable, because it encroached on the free 
action of the citizens ; such a magistrate was a Jeffries 
or Laubardemont, because he set an innocent snare for 
the knave who was confided to justice ; such a mayor 
was an ignoramus or a Yerres, because he granted to 
right-minded stockholders a monopoly advantageous to 
all, as monopolies always are. Must one take the trou- 
ble to govern men, daily to encounter such abuse ? 
" Wretched pamphleteer !" I exclaimed, " if thou hadst 



NO DOWRY. 31 

the honor of living among the most amiable and enlight- 
ened people on earth, thou wouldst know from thy birth 
that to criticise the law, the judge, or the office-holder, is 
a crime of social treason ! The first dogma of a civilized 
people is the infallibility of authority. Accursed be the 
inventor of the newspaper, and above all, of the cheap, 
free newspaper ! The press is like gas — a light which 
burns your eyes and poisons you at the same time." 

*' Why do we not breakfast ?" asked I of my wife ab- 
ruptly, to shake off unpleasant thoughts. " Where are 
the children ? Why do they not come down ?" 

" They have gone out, my dear, but will soon return. 
Henry is to make his first speech this evening before the 
Academy of Young Readers ; he wished to try his voice 
in the hall before speaking in public." 

"And on what subject will our Cicero of sixteen 
declaim ?" 

" Here is the rough draught of his speech," said Jenny, 
handing me with a mother's pride a paper full of words 
underlined, interjections, pauses and exclamations. 

The title, Avritten in large characters, appeared to me 
more respectable than clear : 

" On the Moral JSducati07i of Wome7i^ 
co7isiderecl as the Listructresses of the Hitman RaceP 

*' Hang thyself, Cherubim !" exclaimed I, " the world 
will end by dint of virtue ! At sixteen, if we thought 
of anything, it was not certainly, like my son, of the 
moral " 

" My dear," said Jenny. Her tone stopped me short, 
and so opportunely that I bit off the word in the middle, 
and blushed in spite of myself. 



32 PAEIS IN AlVIEKICA. 

" My dear," continued my wife, who did not perceive 
my confusion, " I think that a change is about to take 
place in Henry's condition. He repeats to me every day 
that he wishes to choose an occupation, that he has too 
long been a burden on us, that the governor must be 
tired of it" 

" Who is the governor ?" 

" You know, it is the familiar name which our children 
give their father ; in short, Henry wishes to choose a 
profession." 

" Patience, Mrs. Smith, we have time enough ; this is 
my care." 

" My dear," resumed Jenny, " our son is already six- 
teen ; all his comrades have a profession ; he must make 
his way in life. Talk with him about it ; no one can 
guide him better than you." 

I began to pace up and down the room, while my wife 
looked out of the window to see whether our children 
were coming. 

" Oh, my son," thought I, " it is my business to settle 
thee in life. I have long since arranged everything for 
thy success. It was not in vain that, sixteen years ago, 
I chose for thy godfather my friend Regelman, then 
sub-chief, now Chief of Bureau in the Ministry of the 
Finances, Section of Customs. Yes, my son, already, 
without knowing it, thou art candidate in aspiration to 
the supernumerary force of the Ministry of the Finances. 
In two years thou wilt be bachelor ; in three years, if thou 
passest successfully three or four competitions, tu 3farcel' 
lus eris. I see thee already, at thirty-five, sub-chief, with 
a salary of twenty-four hundred fi-ancs, and decorated 
like thy godfather ; I see thee, like thy model, gentle, 
humble, polite and complaisant towards thy superiors; 



NO DOWRY. 33 

severe, rigid and majestic towards thy inferiors ; and 
rising, step by step, to the direction of the corps, I see 
thee become the hope and terror of ten thousand green 
coats.' What fortune, and what a future !" 

" There is Henry," cried my wife from the window. 
" He is talking with Mr. Green ; I am sure that he 
is asking him for good advice, better perhaps than 
this." 

" What do you say, my dear ? Green, the grocer ! 
What need has my son to talk with such obscure 
people ?" 

" Obscure people !" returned my wife, with an air of 
surprise. " Mr. Green is an honest man, a good Christ- 
ian, universally respected. He is worth three hundred 
thousand dollars, and makes the best use of the fortune, 
which he owes to labor." 

" Well, well!" exclaimed I. " Happy country, where 
grocers are millionaires, and give counsel like lawyers, if 
not places like ministers ! Let my son then solicit His 
Excellency the Lord of Prunes and Molasses. But call 
Susan; I j)resume that she expects nothing from the 
Honorable Mr. Green." 

" Susan is at her lesson in hygiene and anatomy." 

" Anatomy ! Good God ! My daughter at nineteen 
learning anatomy ! She is dissecting, j^erhaps ?" 

" What is the matter with you, my dear ?" returned 
my wife, with a calmness which brought me back to 
realities. " Susan will some day have children. Do you 
wish her to bring them up and attend to them blindly, 
without knowing anything of their constitution ? Have 
you not said a hundred times in her presence that the 
study of the human body is a necessary part of a good 
education ?" 

2* 



34: PARIS IN AMERICA. 

" And who is the physician to whose prudence is con- 
fided the care of teaching young girls anatomy ?" 

*' It is Mrs. Hope, one of our medical celebrities." 

" Women physicians ! Moliere, where art thou ? 
What ! in this country, where everything is the opposite 
of all others, men do not have the care of our wives, 
mothers and daughters ? Women, perhaps, attend at 
the accouchement of ladies of good society? This is 
done nowhere; it is indecent, Mrs. Smith, it is inde- 
cent !» 

" I thought the contrary, my dear ; but you know 
more about it than I. Then, if ever our daughter 
should have one of those indispositions, whether serious 
or not, which a woman in her modesty scarcely dares 
confess to herself, you had rather that I should call in a 
male physician ?" 

" By no means ; you misunderstand me, my dear. I 
only meant to say to you that there are ancient usages 
which are respectable like all ancient errors. That 
is to say — no, I will explain all this to you some other 
day. Who accompanied Susan to this lesson in 
anatomy?" 

"No one." 

" What ! no one ? At nineteen, and as beautiful as an 
angel, my daughter is running about the streets alone, 
without a chaperon?" 

" Why should she do differently from her companions? 
What danger does she run ? Do you imagine that there 
is a man criminal enough or mad enough in America to 
be wanting in the respect which he owes to youth and 
innocence ? Fathers, mothers, husbands, sons, every 
hand would be raised to strike down the wretch — but 
such an indignity has never been seen in this noble 



NO DOWRY. 35 

country. These infamies and vices we leave to the Old 
World. 

" Besides," added my wife with her sweet smile, " I 
think that Susan is well protected. Alfred, Mr. Rose's 
youngest son, has returned from the East Indies, I saw 
him walking yesterday with his father and eight brothers. 
I cannot get it out of my head that Susan and he have 
been engaged for a long time." 

" Engaged ! my daughter in love with the ninth son 
of an apothecary ! And her mother coolly announces to 
me a piece of news of this kind!"" 

" Why should she not marry the one she loves ?" an- 
swered Jenny, fixing her beautiful blue eyes on me. 
" My dear, is it not what I did ? am I sorry for it ? do 
you regret it ?" 

"But what profession, what fortune has this young 
man ?" 

" Be easy, my dear ; Alfred is a worthy man ; he will 
not marry Susan until he has a position to offer her. 
Susan will wait ten years if need be." 

"And the dowry, Mrs. Smith, have you thought of the 
dowry ? Do you know what this young gallant wants, 
do you know what we can do, and what part of our little 
property we must sacrifice ?" 

" I do not understand you, Daniel. Are we selling 
our child ? Must we bribe a young man, a lover, to de- 
cide to accept for a companion a charming girl, the sight 
of whom rejoices the eyes, and who is as good as she is 
beautiful ? Where did you get these strange ideas, which 
I hear for the first time ?" 

" No dowry !" I exclaimed, " in a country where from 
morning to night all are kneeling before the dollar !" 

" In America, my dear, people love, they marry because 



36 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

they love, and they are happy all their lives in repeating 
to each other that they have chosen each other through 
love. Each one brings his heart as a dowry, and I hope 
that in a free, young, generous nation like ours, we shall 
never know any other dowry than this." 

" N'o dowry!" thought I, " no dowry ! Harpagon was 
in the right ; this changes matters greatly. Marriage is 
no longer a business. Rich or poor, the bride is sure of 
being loved ; the father who tremblingly gives away his 
daughter does not fear at least that he is yielding her to 
some unworthy speculator. IsTo dowry ! Barbarous peo- 
ple have sometimes, without knowing it, instincts of deli- 
cacy which would do honor to our civilization." 

" Here is Susan," cried my wife, who had resumed her 
post of observation. " Alfred is with her ; I guessed it." 

I ran to the door. My daughter, my dear Susan — she 
was more beautiful than ever ! Her luxuriant, fair hair, 
falling in ringlets on her shoulders, her smiling glance, 
her confident air, her self-possessed bearing gave her a 
new charm. It was the innocence of the child and the 
grace of the woman. She flung herself on my neck like 
a mad-cap, I pressed her to my heart with transport and 
carried her in my arms to the dining-room. 

There only I perceived that Susan had not entered the 
house alone. He was by her side, the monster who came 
to snatch from me my happiness and joy ; Susan took 
him by the hand and presented him to me in the most 
natural manner imaginable. 

" Mr. Alfred Kose, dear j)apa, don't you recognize 
him?" 

I recognized him only too well ; he was charming, the 
wretch ! I sighed, and shook hands with this future son- 
in-law who was pleased to do me the honor to choose me 



NO DOWRY. 37 

as father-in-law without taking the trouble to consult me 
on the subject. No dowry! this was sufficient for him 
to think that he had a right to marry the woman he loved. 
Talk of i^ropriety to brutes who always go straight 
ahead ! 



38 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER VI. 

tN WHICH WE MAKE ACQUAINTANCE WITH ME. ALFRED 
ROSE AND NEIGHBOR GREEN. 

"While we stood face to face, Alfred and I, both silent 
and gazing at each other, the two women were whisper- 
ing together with the utmost eagerness, the mother 
smiling, the daughter with supplicating eyes. 

" My love," said Jenny, taking the young people by 
the hand, " here are two children who, with the help of 
God, wish to found a Christian family ; they ask your 
blessing." 

My blessing ! I had seen Pius IX. bless Rome and 
the world, with that gentle majesty which brought 
unbelievers to their knees; I had seen pious bishops 
bless the innocence and fervor of a first communion ; it 
was beautiful and imposing, it was the overflowing of 
sanctity. But I, a sinner, I did not feel the right to 
bless even my children. I embraced Susan, I embraced 
Alfred ; I joined their hands in mine, and wept. 

They were so happy, the ingrates, that they did not 
see my tears ; they escaped from my arms to run to 
Jenny, who received them, raising her voice : 

"May the God of Abraham and Sarah," said she, 
"may the God of Isaac and Rebecca, of Jacob and 
Rachael, bless you, my children, and give you a Chris- 
tian life !' 

" Amen !" responded a voice, whose gravity made me 



WE MAKE MR. ALFRED ROSE S ACQUAINTANCE. 39 

start. It was Martha, who approached with the look 
and gesture of a prophet. 

*' Man," said she, " thee takes this woman before God ; 
woman, thee takes this man before God; for better or 
worse, in sickness and health, in life and death ; do not 
forget it, the Eternal will remember." 

" JS'o, indeed ; I will never forget it," cried Alfred, 
raising his hand, " I call God to witness." 

Shall I confess it, to my shame? despite the excel- 
lent education which I had received in France, and 
although I had been accustomed from childhood to 
treat nothing but jests in earnest, I felt moved to the 
heart by the solemnity of this engagement. It seemed to 
me that my hearth had become sacred like that of Abra- 
ham, and that the invisible and present God descended 
upon it to bless the union of my children. 

The entrance of Sambo chased away these grave 
thoughts. He had despoiled the garden and conserva- 
tory to offer an enormous bouquet to the bride; he 
accompanied this present with such grotesque grimaces 
and compliments, that I laughed despite myself. 

"When is the weddmg, young massa?" asked he; 
"to-morrow, the next day, next week? Sambo will 
sing, Sambo will dance." 

" Susan !" exclaimed I, looking at my daughter, " the 
day is not fixed ?" 

" Dear papa, we await your pleasure," answered my 
daughter, with a feigned modesty which made me sigh. 

" And this is all we wait for," said Alfred. " I have 
hired and furnished a house near here, on the corner of 
Fourteenth Avenue. Everything is ready to receive her 
who does me the honor to share my name and fortune." 

"My son," said I to Alfred, (the name of son strangled 



40 PAKIS IN AMEEIOA. 

me, by the way), "Susan has chosen you; we adopt you 
with our eyes shut ; but forgive the legitimate curiosity 
and anxiety of a father. How long have you loved my 
daughter ? — and, since you speak of fortune, what will 
be the condition of both of you in this household, whose 
happiness concerns ns so closely ?" 

" To tell you how long I have loved Susan would be 
difficult," repHed the young man. " It seems to me that 
I have loved her from her birth. Indeed, I loved her 
already when we went to the common school together, 
running all the way, she quite a child and I almost a 
young man. Since this time, we played, talked, and 
prayed so much together, I saw her so often, gay, good 
and amiable, we conversed with open hearts so many 
times, I saw so many times all the beauty of her soul, 
that the day came when I felt that Susan was the wife 
whom God, in his goodness, had chosen for me. When 
Susan was sixteen, I asked her to accept me for her 
husband ; we were engaged. This is the whole story of 
our love." 

"Then," said I, sighing, "it was esteem and friend- 
ship which led you to what you call love. Nothing 
overpowering, nothing sudden, no passion ?" 

" I am twenty- four years old," said the young man ; 
" I love Susan ; I have never loved, and shall never love, 
any other than she ; I esteem her more than any one on 
earth ; I cherish her more than myself. Is this wisdom ? 
is it passion ? I know not ; but I hope that Susan will 
ask no more of me, and will permit me to love her in the 
same manner to my dying day." 

"Very well, my son, you are a sage; you will be 
happy, as you deserve, and have many children. Now, 
let us talk of money." 



WE MAKE ME. ALFRED KOSE's ACQUAINTANCE. 41 

" I had no fortune," said Alfred. " This retarded 
many of our plans. I was twenty- one years old, and I 
resolved to make my way in life speedily; I had no 
doubt of success." 

" You doubtless had powerful protectors — the promise 
of some good place under government — or perhaps your 
father had obhged the cousin of a lady-cousin of a sena- 
tor?" 

" I had my head and hands," replied Alfred, " and the 
motto of every true Yankee: ' Go ahead ; never mind ; 
help yourself^ These were worth more than the sup- 
port of strangers. In a country which grows as fast as 
ours, every man who is not a fool, and who has the will, 
always ends by striking a lucky vein. Employed as a 
chemist by a rich indigo merchant, I often heard my 
patron complain that the vessels sent to the East Indies 
were never more than half laden. To find a new article 
of freight was the one fixed idea of our shipping mer- 
chants. I discovered one which nobody had thought of, 
and the sale of which was sure. It was ice. It is 
impossible ever to supply the East Indies with as much 
as they can consume. The difiiculty was to preserve it 
on the way ; this was a problem to be resolved. Thanks 
to my father, I had been brought up in a laboratory ; 
physics and chemistry had been my earliest amusements. 
It was necessary to find a body which should be a bad 
conductor of caloric, to isolate my ice. I tried sawdust, 
which is worthless among us. The discovery was made. 
Nothing was lacking but capital. 

" To find money to put a good idea in execution is 
easy in America. I thought of Mr. Green, who does a 
large business in rice, coffee, spices, and indigo. He had 
confidence in me, and risked a shipment. I set out for 



42 PARIS IN AMKKIOA. 

Calcutta with my cargo, which did not melt on the way. 
I sold my ice in such a way as to make the outward and 
homeward freight, and returned after having secured 
advantageous markets for twenty years. On my arrival, 
I had eight thousand dollars for my share ; and here I 
am at the head of the firm, Green, Rose & Co. Success 
is certain. I could raise money on it to-day if I Uked. 
Ten or twelve thousand dollars a year is what I can ofier 
Mrs. Rose while awaiting something better." 

" Sixty thousand francs a year !" I cried. " What a fine 
thing is commerce, when it is successful !" I looked at 
my son-in-law more closely, and detected in him an air 
of genius. In the forehead and lower part of the face 
he had something of Napoleon. 

I had wholly forgotten his father's shop, when Sambo 
announced Mr. Rose, who had come to share in the com- 
mon joy. However estimable was this excellent man, 
an apothecary was by no means the father-in-law I had 
dreamed of for my daughter. I had aspired to a sub- 
prefect ; but what was to be done in a back country, des- 
titute as yet of that centralization which Europe envies 



us 



With Mr. Rose entered Mr. Green, followed by Henry. 
I recognized the apothecary by that medical air which 
he never lost ; but the grocer, in a black coat and white 
cravat, was to me an unknown monster. His language 
and manners were no less strange than his costume. 
Green, the seller of oil and coffee, talked with the autho- 
rity and self-possession of a man that moves millions. 

" Neighbor," said he to me, with affectionate good- 
nature, " here I am, something like one of your family, 
through this young man, your son-in-law, and my part- 
ner. We will not stop here. Henry has been to see me. 



WE MAKE MK. ALFRED EOSE'S ACQUAINTANCE. 43 

He is an intelligent boy, and I like him. I have found him 
a position. Alfred is going to settle down. A man 
hardly marries to rove about the world ; but we must 
have, notwithstanding, a reliable man at Calcutta. I 
have thought of Henry, in spite of his youth. One never 
gets a taste of business too early. Three years' stay in 
the East Indies will form him. We will give him a share, 
which, if he works, will amount to four or five thou- 
sand dollars a year. You entrust me with a child, 
in three years I will give you back a man ! What do 
you say of my plan ? Does it suit you as well as it 
does Henry ?" 

*' Oh, my son," thought I, " I had dreamed of a differ- 
ent future for thee ! Perhaps this suits thee better ; per- 
haps thou hast neither the political genius nor the neces- 
sary suppleness to rise to the rank of Chief of Bureau. 
Fate has decreed it ! Thou wilt be nothing but a mil- 
lionaire." 

I thanked Green, who whispered to me : 

" Neighbor, we will not stop here. You know Marga- 
ret, my twelfth child, a charming little girl, ten years 
old, with a figure already as plump as a doll's. I have 
an idea that in six or seven years we will make her Mrs. 
Henry Smith. From this time we will have an eye on 
this young man and his fortunes. Depend on me." 

It was too much. I, Doctor Lefebvre ; I, a scholar 
and citizen in my own country, to become the relation 
and protege of a grocer ! Certainly I love equality. I 
am a Frenchman, and have for my gospel the principles 
of 1789. Let this equality be proclaimed and placarded 
everywhere, I demand it ; let it even be put in our 
laws, I consent, the laws are scarcely ever applied ; but 
that this equality be brought down into our customs, 



44 / PARIS m AMERICA. 

never ! The man who does nothing will always be more 
than he who soils his hands by working. 

I was about to break the charm, and refuse this per- 
fidious fortune, when, by my wife's invitation, each of 
our neighbors accepted a slice of ham and cup of tea. 

" Daniel," said Jenny, " we are all at the table, say the 
blessing." 

" My dear, I am so much agitated that I no longer 
know what I am doing. Take my place and speak for 
me." 

" O God," said Jenny, " bless this house, and all who 
are found in it ! Bless, above all, those who are depart 
ing from it ; and mayst thou, O Lord, find among them 
only pure and obedient hearts !" 

Each one replied " Amen" in so sincere a tone that it 
overthrew the whole course of my ideas. I looked at my 
friends, my children, my wife ; Green, who with so much 
simplicity made the fortune of my family ; Henry, who 
at sixteen, with the resolution of a man and the ardor of 
a child, resolved, by dint of labor, to conquer for himself 
a rank in the world, and recoiled neither before danger 
nor exile ; Susan and Alfred, who loved each other with 
so pure and tender a love ; lastly, my wife, my good 
Jenny, who thought only of others ; attentive and de- 
voted, the life and* soul of the house, the queen of this 
hive whence the swarm was taking flight. 

And I, useless drone, who knew only how to murmur ; 
I said to myself that I was about to be left alone by this 
hearth, lately animated by the joy of Susan and Henry. 
Rose had nine children, Green had twelve. God blesses 
large families, and when we wish to be wiser than he, 
he confounds our false prudence, and condemns us to the 
isolation which we have sought. 



WE MAKE MK. ALFRED ROSE S ACQUAINTANCE. 45 

And I looked at my wife, still young and fresh, with a 
graceful emhonpoint^ and said to myself — I know no 
longer what I was saying, when Sambo, pushing open 
the door, entered with a frightened air, crying, "The 
beU! the bell! Hark! it is fire !" 



4:6 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER YII. 

f HE FIRE. 

At the first cry of Sambo, the apothecary ran to the 
window, then turning to Green : 

" Lieutenant," said he, " it is for us, the fire is in Twelfth 
Avenue." 

" Sergeant, I am ready," said the grocer, rising. " Doc- 
tor," added he, striking me on the shoulder, "make haste, 
the carriage will not wait !" 

" Good !" thought I, on seeing them go out, accompa- 
nied by Alfred and Henry, " see them playing the Na- 
tional Guard ! The National Guard is a gift sent us from 
America by Lafayette and by which we have profited 
finely ! Run to this useless parade, my dear friends, and 
much good may it do you ; for my part, I shall stay at 
home. What is this carriage that Green speaks of? 
Does he imagine that I shall run like an idler to see a 
conflagration in a country where fires, they say, occur 
every day ?" 

I approached the window ; whirlwinds of smoke were 
rising in the sky and throwing out fiery sparks ; the fire 
was gaining ground. 

" Quick, sir, quick, the carriage is coming," said Martha, 
all at once. 

I turned round ; before me was Sambo, a hatchet in 
his hand and a helmet of varnished leather on his head ; 
Martha was holding a jacket of black cloth and a broad 
gymnastic belt; it was my uniform, I was a fireman! 



THE FIEE. 47 

A ilreman ! I ! I sought to protest against this new in- 
sult of fate ; but Martha had taken possession of me. In 
the twinkhng of an eye I was dressed, strapped, helmeted 
and hoisted on an immense carriage. Two magnificent 
black horses drew on a gallop the engine and firemen. 

" Fear nothing, Daniel !" cried Martha, her hand up- 
raised, "thee is going to serve God; the Most High 
will bring thee back from the midst of the flames as he 
rescued his servants, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego." 

This Biblical benediction made me shudder, it savored 
of singeing. " A singular idea," I exclaimed, " to risk 
one's own skin for strangers, when firemen might be 
hired !" 

" What are you saying* doctor V interrupted a shrill 
voice by which I recognized my neighbor Reynard in 
Attorney Fox. " Citizens," added he, reciting some old 
speech, " if you would be free, be yourselves your police 
and army. To give yourselves guardians is to give your- 
selves masters. My dear friend," continued he, in a na- 
tural tone, " where did you get these old world ideas, 
are you not a friend of liberty ?" 

" Liberty before everything," I hastened to reply, a 
little ashamed of my weakness. " To fly to the assistance 
of our fellow citizens is a duty and pleasure which I leave 
to no one ; I am proud of being a fireman !" 

" Not so much so as Green," replied the sharp-visaged 
man. " He is the one that likes so well to go to fires I 
He is devilish smart!" whispered he in my ear; "devil- 
ish smart," he repeated four times, winking and making 
signs with his nose and chin. 

He opened his snuff box, sighed, and took two pinches 
of snuff, slowly. " Our captain, the gallant Colonel St. 
John, is about to resign," said he, " Green is lieutenant, 



48 PABIS IN AMERICA. 

and ambitious. He wishes to become captain, in order 
to rise higher. He is devilish smart ; but he has hid his 
cards in vain ; I read his hand." 

Fox had not ended his insidious confidences when we 
arrived at the spot. There was no police, no precaution 
taken ; a crowd of curious people was gathered on the 
sidewalks, fortunately leaving free the middle of the 
street. In a moment, the engine was put in place, the 
water was everywhere. While the lieutenant ascertained 
the principal seat of the fire and gave orders, I set to 
work to pump with my amiable neighbor. 

In front of us was a house on fire. The flames had 
broken the windows, and were bursting out on every 
side. All at once, piercing shrieks were heard from the 
second story ; a white figure passed like a shadow ; a 
woman's voice called for help. Green quickly placed a 
ladder along the Avail, mounted, and was lost amidst the 
smoke. 

" Devilish smart !" said Fox, with a satanic grim- 
ace, " devUish smart ! He plays well, the ambitious 
dog!" 

"Pump, boys, j)ump!" cried Rose, wholly occupied 
with drowning the flames. I bore with all my might 
upon the lever, but I could not detach my eyes from the 
window which Green had entered. My heart beat; I 
was breathless with anxiety. 

Suddenly Green reappeared, a woman in his arms, and 
descended, amid the huzzas of the crowd. 

Scarcely had the woman touched the ground when she 
sprang to her feet. " My child !" cried she, " where is my 
child?" 

Her limbs shook; she wept; she raised her hands 
towards the burning windows, and wished to fling her- 



THE FIEE. 49 

self into the furnace. In vain we sought to restrain her ; 
she escaped from our hands, rushed to the house, and, 
driven back by the flames, recoiled, uttering heart-rend- 
ing shrieks, and tearing her hair. 

All looked at each other. The flames were roaring 
like a tempest. The burning roof was about to fall in : 
the child was lost ! At this moment I felt an indescriba- 
ble sensation. The sight of this poor mother, the words 
of Martha, the example of Green, the idea that I was a 
Frenchman — I know not what — a sort of intoxication 
mounted to my brain. I ran to the ladder, and was at 
the top before I knew what I was doing. 

Rose sought to stop me. " I am a father," I exclaimed. 
" I will not let this child die." 

Once in the room, I was filled with terror. The 
flame whistled round me ; the wainscot crackled ; the 
glasses snapped — the sounds were sinister. Stifled by 
the heat and blinded by the smoke, I called, there was 
no answer ; I cried, no echo. I was in despair, when 
a tongue of the red flame, piercing the darkness, showed 
me opposite a closed door. To break the lock by a* 
stroke of the hatchet, enter the chamber, rush to the 
cradle where an infant was crying, and possess myself 
of the treasure, was the work of an instant. What joy, 
but how short ! Surrounded with smoke, almost asphyxi- 
ated, I knew no longer where I was. My heart beat, 
my head turned, I was lost. 

" This way, doctor, this way, Daniel," cried the voice 
of Rose. " Come on, but step aside. Take care!" 

The advice was wise. I had hardly turned when a 
vigorous jet of water, dh-ected by the skillful hand of the 
apothecary, inundated me from head to foot, at the risk 
of throwing me down. Thanks to this strategic diver- 

3 



60 PARIS m AMERICA. 

sion, which for an instant ajTested the flame and dissi- 
pated the smoke, I saw the window, ran to it, and, be- 
striding the ladder, gUded to the gronnd, black and 
smoking like a drenched firebrand. An instant after the 
roof fell with a horrible crash. Martha was right : God 
had treated me like Abednego. 

To tell the joy of the poor mother would be useless. 
The happiest person was myself. I had saved a child, 
and maintained the honor of the French name. It had 
cost me something. I had the whole side of my hair 
singed, an ear flayed, and the left arm burned from the 
wrist to the elbow ; but what was this to what I had 
gained ? 

An hour at most after these events, we returned to our 
district, leaving to the last comers the care of extinguish- 
ing the smoking ruins. I clambered briskly, with head 
erect, upon the carriage which I had mounted in the 
morning with such ill grace. Fox was there, winking as 
if he Av^ere blind of one eye. 

" Green is smart," said he, pushing his elbow against 
my burned arm, and making me wince ; " but you are 
devilishly smarter than he. Hurrah for Captain Smith !" 
added he, rubbing his hands. 

I did not answer him. I was wholly occupied by a 
new spectacle. 

Along the sidewalks was ranged an immense crowd 
in incredible order. Almost all the men held a paper 
in their hand, which they waved as we passed. 

" Hurrah for the brave lieutenant ! Hurrah for Green !" 
cried the crowd. " Hurrah for Smith ! Hurrah for the 
gallant fireman !" 

" Here they are !" exclaimed some one, pointing us 
out! Hats were raised, handkerchiefs fluttered ; women 



THE FIRE. 51 

showed us to their children, who waved their little hands 
as if to bless us. 

By what mystery did the whole city already know my 
name and deed ? I was ignorant, and did not ask. We 
quickly become accustomed to glory ; but emotion over- 
powered me, and I vainly endeavored to gaze at the 
crowd with the modesty and calimiess of a hero. When 
I approached my dwelling, I was in tears. The people 
surrounded Jenny, my daughter, Martha, who was preach- 
ing, and Sambo, who was dancing like a child. I threw 
myself into their arms, and, despite my chimney-sweep- 
er's face, God knows how heartily I embraced them all. 
I grimed everybody, I believe, even to Sambo. 

Before entering the house, Jenny smilingly showed 
me the newspaper-office opposite us, that of the Paris 
Telegraphy that seditious journal. An immense placard 
was hoisted above the house, and half a league oflf might 
have been read the following description : 

FIFTH EDITION. 

FARIS TELEGRAPH. 

HORRIBLE CONPLAGRATION! 

The Irave Lieutenant Geeen! The gallant Fireman Smith!! 

Sublime Motto : 

''^ lam a father; I id ill not let this child die!'''' 

50,000 copies sold. 

Sixth Editiox in jpress. 

This was the temple w^hence the glory was dispensed ; 
there was wherewith to cure vanity. 

With what pleasure I hastened to the bath-room to 
plunge into the water, wash my face, and refresh my 



52 PARIS IN A^IERICA. 

burned arm ! This time, I found the invention admira- 
ble which placed hot water at every moment in my 
•dwelling. As to Sambo, he would not quit me, pretend- 
ing that Massa needed his services, and could not do 
w^ithout him. The rascal needed to make me talk to give 
himself importance in the neighborhood. My glory was 
his ; he had entered the flames, by proxy. 

When I descended to the parlor, the office of the 
Paris Telegraph, still crowded with buyers, could not 
satisfy the demand ; the crowd pressed beneath our 
windows to try to obtain a glimpse of me. With my 
arm in a sling, my scarred cheek and burned hair, I 
might well believe myself a hero. 

Ere long, that nothing might be wanting to the joy 
of this happy day, the fireman's band came to give me a 
serenade, and the whole company, with Green for its 
spokesman, made me an address. In this well-turned 
speech, the grocer, with touching modesty, forgot him- 
self to speak only of the courage which I had shown ; 
and, in the name of the company, he entreated me to ac- 
cept the joost of captain. 

" Comrades ! friends !" exclaimed I, " I am confused 
by your kindness, but God forbid that I forget the ex- 
ample set me by Lieutenant Green, and the aid lent me 
by Rose, the brave sergeant ! To the first, I owe the 
honor of a good action ; to the second, my life. Permit 
me, therefore, not to forget the debt of gratitude, and 
always to regard as my superiors the excellent Green 
and the generous Rose. I will remain with you, com- 
rades; like you, a simple fireman in a free country. 
Proud of your friendship and heroism, I w^ould not ex- 
change our modest uniform for the gilded dress of a cap- 
tain-general. Hurrah for America and liberty !" 



THE FIRE. 53 

My reply was successful, especially the end, which 
meant nothing. Green threw himself into my arms, 
Rose did the same, and Fox, taking me aside, whispered 
to me : " You are devilish smart, comrade, you look 
high ; but all the same, I read you." And he winked 
with both eyes at once — a mysterious language, the scope , 
of which escaped me. 

On a signal from Green, the serenade again com- 
menced. At the same moment, I saw a canvas ascend 
the whole length of the newspaper office, like the main- 
sail of a ship. Upon this transparency, lighted by 
colored lanterns, was read the following inscription, in 
letters a foot high : 

EIGHTH EDITION. 

PARIS TELEGRAPH. 

HORRIBLE CONFLAGRATION! 

The gallant fireman Smith, the neio Cincinnatus 1 1 ! 

How America reioards virtue, 

100,000 copies sold. 

Ninth Edition in press. 

" What does this mean ?" I exclaimed. " Sambo, go 
bring the paper ; there is some bad joke under this." 

The paper brought, I read in it, to my great surprise, 
Green's speech and my answer. I had been steno- 
graphed, and printed forthwith. My refusal had won 
for me the title of Cincinnatus. Why, I never knev/ ; 
but the word looked well on the placard. It is some- 
thing for a man to be called the neio Cincinnatus. 

Beneath my speech, under the absurd heading, " How 



54: PAEIS IN AMEEICA. 

America reivards virtue^'' were the two following 
letters : 

SWAN FIEE INSUEANOE COMPANY. 

No. 10 Acacia St. 

(Joint Stock capital, $10,000,000. A share in the profits 

secured to the parties insured.) 
"Sie: 

"The courage displayed by you in this morning's fire 
has attracted the attention of the Directors of the Company. 

" The position of consulting physician, to verify the wounds 
and accidents resulting from fire, is at this moment vacant. 

" "We hope that you will do us the honor to accept it. The 
emoluments are $400. 

"X. X 

" Director of the Company. 
" Dr. Daniel Smith, Ffreman of Company YIT." 



THE PEOYIDENCE OHILD's HOSPITAL. 

Supported ly private subscriptions, at $10 per annum, 

M. 25 Walnut St. 
"Sie: 

" The physician who uttered the noble words: lam a 
fatTier, I will not let this child die, is naturally fitted, by his 
devotion and talent, for the care of young children. 

" The place of physician in chief in our hospital is vacant ; 
we hope that it may suit you to accept it. 

" Attendance daily, from 6 to 8, a.m. Salary, $2,000. 

"E 

" Governors of the Hospital. 
"Dr. Daniel Smith, Fireman of Company YII." 

" Sambo," asked I, " have these letters been brought 
me, then ?" 



THE FIEE. 55 

" 'No, Massa, the postman has not come yet." 

" It is impossible, unless there be some mystification 
in this journal." 

" There is a knock, Massa," said Sambo ; " one, two, 
three — it is the postman. I am coming !" 

The negro brought me forty letters — a mountain of 
paj)er. Some patients asked my office hours, others en- 
treated me to visit them as soon as possible ; four phy- 
sicians called me in consultation; six druggists offered 
me a partnersKip ; and lastly, strange to say, two letters, 
carefully sealed, announced to me confidentially what the 
JParis Telegrcqyh had already published with an indiscre- 
tion which at heart I pardoned it. 

I was celebrated! my fortune was beginning! A 
day, an hour of courage had given me a name, and done 
more for me in America than twenty years of labor had 
done on the old continent ! " But," thought I, and this 
thought restored to me the humility of which I had great 
need, " without this garrulous journal, without this trum- 
pet, which has flung my name to all the echoes of the 
NcAV World, would I have succeeded ?" My first idea, 
nevertheless, was to thank the journalist, be this as it 
might. It was too late ; the office was closed, the pic- 
ture extinguished, my glory vanished. I postponed ray 
visit till the next day. 

I passed the evening with my old friends, my wife and 
children. They made me repeat the smallest details of 
the terrible and glorious event. Jenny grew pale when 
I spoke of my dangers ; her cheeks glowed when I told 
the joy of the mother on regaining her child. Susan 
clasped my hand and looked at Alfred. 

The conversation, I think, would have lasted all night, 
if Martha had not placed on the table an enormous 



56 PARIS IN AISIEEICA. 

Bible, bound in shagreen and fastened by large copper 
clasps. 

" Read," said she to me, " and calm thy vanity. Do 
not forget the story of Haman, son of Hammedatha, of 
the race of Agag ; and remember that there is a Mordecai 
here who will not bend the knee before thee." 

" Be easy, Martha," answered I, laughing. " There is 
no gallows fifty cubits high at my gate, and I wish to 
hang no one." 

Jenny opened the Bible, and read us the third chapter 
of Daniel, which delighted the Quakeress, pleased Sambo 
no less, and made me seriously reflect on the goodness 
of God in my behalf The evening was far advanced 
when we separated after so well filled a day. I threw 
myself on my bed, weary and suffering somewhat, but 
content with myself, and dreamed all night of serenades, 
placards, huzzas and speeches. 



TKUTH, HUMBUG & CO. 57 



CECAPTER VIIL 

TRUTH, HUMBUG & CO. 

Scarcely awakened, I ran to the window ; I wished to 
enjoy my new-born celebrity, and once more to contem- 
plate my name proclaimed above the house-toi>s. The 
canvas was in its place ; all the passers were casting their 
eyes on it ; but, oh vanity of human glory! behold what 
was read tjiere : 

ARRIVAL OF THE PERSIA. 
GBEAT NEWS FROM EUROPE, 

London". Consols 92f. 
LiVEEPOOL. Else in Cotton, 20 per cent. 

Salt pork (Cleveland), demand for 4000 bbls. at $14. 

A KAEE CHAIN'CE FOR FARMERS ! ! ! ! 

Four beautiful Italian Asses, first class stallions. 

Apply to G-mocchio JBros.^ N'o. 70 Williain Street, 

" Shopkeeping people," exclaimed I, shaking my fist 
at the passers, " gross race which carries on pell mell, 
and at the same pace, business, sentiments, cotton and 
ideas, I thank God for not belonging to thee ! Long live 
France, the country of the ideal, that is always carried 
away with a high-sounding word, France that, thank 
God ! never thinks of her own interests except when it 
is too late ! Our folly is better than the wisdom of these 
Yankees ; our poverty is nobler than their riches. Four 

3* 



58 PAEIS IN AMEEICA. 

Italian asses and the price of pork, this is the great news 
from Europe to these ignorant farmers ! And of France, 
the new fashions, the Court ball, the last novel, the last 
vaudeville, not a word ! Pale Vandals, I have for you 
naught but contempt !" 

While giving free vent to my just anger, I wished none 
the less to thank the journalist who had sjDoken of me 
the night before. Whatever might be this pamphleteer, 
it was fitting that I should not remain his debtor ; to 
honor him with a visit was already to acquit myself of 
the obhgation. 

I entered a house of insignificant appearance, which 
had no other sign than a brass plate, nailed to the wall, 
on which was read, Pakis Telegraph, Truths Humbug 
<& Co.^ Editors and Proprietors. A green serge door 
was before me ; I pushed it open and found myself in the 
presence of a little man, dressed in black, and buttoned 
to the throat — it was Mr. Truth. Seated before a ma- 
hogany desk, he held in his hand an enormous pair of 
scissors, with which he was cutting long strips from an 
English journal and throwing them into a kind of letter 
box which communicated with the press room. It was 
cheap editing. 

" What do you want, sir !" asked he, without raising 
his head or interrupting his work. 

" Sir," said I in a grave and deliberate voice, " I am 
Dr. Daniel Smith, fireman of Company VII., the same 
whom you had the kindness to praise in your last even- 
ing's paper." 

"Well," said the journalist, continuing his cutting, 
" what do you want ?" 

" To thank you, sir ; to pay my debt of gratitude." 

He looked at me with an air of surprise. 



TEUTH, HUMBUG & CO. 59 

"You owe me nothing, doctor. In publishing your 
noble action, I was following my trade, and you were 
worth to me yesterday more than two hundred dollars. 
You are therefore under no obligations to me." 

Upon which he resumed his labor, without even invit- 
ing me to be seated. 

"Mr. Truth," said I in a dry and dignified tone, "I 
care nothing about the motives from which you acted 
yesterday; you have rendered me a service, and I am and 
remain your debtor." 

I was about to depart when he raised his head, and 
fixed on me a pair of large black eyes whose sufieriog 
expression struck me. 

"Doctor," said he in a panting voice, "if you abso- 
lutely insist on acquitting yourself of an imaginary debt, 
here is the opportunity. Tell me in all sincerity from 
what disease I am suflTering, and how much longer I have 
to live." 

He rose, laid his hand on his heart, and suddenly 
stopped short. A violent asthma oppressed him. I felt 
his 23ulse, listened to his respiration, and auscultated him ; 
there were symptoms which permitted of no mistake. 

" Doctor," said he, " I ask you to tell me the truth. 
When a man is in the habit, like me, of telling it to every- 
body, he has the strength to hear it on his own account. 
I need to know my situation." 

" You have," answered I, " a disease of the heart, 
which is far from being incurable. Stramonium cigaret- 
tes will relieve you. But if you wish to be cured, you 
must have pure air, a tranquil life and repose of soul and 
body ; aU things which are not found in a newspaper 
office." 

"Thank you, doctor," said he, "your advice is the same 



60 PAKIS IN AMEKICA. 

which my physician gave me this morning. I must re- 
nounce the fatigues of my profession ; so be it, the sooner 
the better. A Yankee never looks back. Doctor, buy 
my journal. I will sell you my share for twenty thousand 
dollars ; in six months you will have made it. Is it 
done ?" 

" Whew !" cried I ; " how you get on ! la journalist ! 
That is an honor I never thought of!" 

" Think of it, then. To a good man, it is the first of 
calUngs. Is there anything more glorious than to guide 
one's brethren in the way of justice and truth ?" 

Journalism is a profession which is little esteemed at a 
distance, but which near by, I know not why, every one 
wishes to handle. Journalists are of the same family as 
comedians ; they are disdained, yet envied. These Bo- 
hemians have wit ; in coming in contact with them, one 
feels himself le&s plebeian. There is not a beautiful lady 
that is not happy to approach noted coquettes ; there is 
not a statesman that at some moment does not flatter 
pamphleteers, even if he do not modestly enrol himself 
among the makers of journals. Despite myself, the 
proposition of Mr. Truth tickled my vanity ; the idea of 
leading public opinion j^leased me. A man like me has 
so many things to teach that ignorant and stupid mass, 
called the pubUc ! The sentiment of my dignity alone 
hindered me from yielding to this folly. 

" To direct a journal," said I to my patient, " is too 
difficult a thing for one not born in the profession." 

" ]^o, nothing is simpler. Sit down here, by my side ; 
remain two hours, and you will have the secret of the 
trade. At the bottom, everything may be reduced to a 
simple rule of action — to tell the truth, the whole truth 
and nothing but the truth." 



TRUTH, HUMBUG & CO. 61 

Curiosity prevailed. I threw myself into a large easy 
ohair of yellow leather, placed my cane between my legs, 
and rested my wounded arm on the elbow of the chair. 
Once installed, I opened a forgotten snuff-box on the 
table, and, looking at Mr. Truth : 

" My dear Aristides," said I, " your device is a fine 
one, but, between ourselves, is it not too fine ? In point 
of journalism, I thought that falsehood was the rule and 
truth the exception." 

"Where have you seen this. Machiavellian doctor? 
In Old Europe, perhaps ? In Spain, in Kussia, in Tur- 
key, wherever the press is a monopoly in the hands of 
the government, the poor journalists have permision to 
say nothing for six days, on condition of lying officially 
on the seventh ; but in a country of liberty, where every 
one can think as he likes and print what he thinks, where 
would be the use of lying ? Truth is our merchandise, 
with which we buy the pubhc. To lie is to lose our 
credit, and ruin ourselves disgracefully. We may have 
all the vices, a single one excepted. See the London 
Times. It is inconstant, abusive, violent; but lying — 
never ! Surprised in the very act of falsehood, its pro- 
prietors would lose an income of a hundred thousand 
dollars. A man is not vicious at this cost ; he is vera- 
cious through calculation, and virtuous through inter- 
est." 

This American virtue dazzled me little ; I was seeking 
an answer, when I perceived a weasel's paw on the 
latch of the door. It was my honorable broth er-in-arms 
and neighbor. Lawyer Fox, who approached, gliding 
over the floor, and took us affectionately by the hand. 

" Good morning, my dear Truth," said he to the jour- 
nalist, smiling. "I come in behalf of Mr. Little, the 



G2 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

banker, to talk with you about a large job. There are 
two thousand dollars to make for the journal — two 
thousand dollars," repeated he, emphasizing each syl- 
lable. 

" Very well," replied the journalist coldly. "This is 
my partner's business." 

He rang. A small door opened, and there emerged 
from it, not without difficulty, a fat man, whose enor- 
mous body, bald head, large ears, and projecting teeth, 
gave him the air of a dressed elephant. 

" Good morning. Dr. Smith," cried he, bursting into 
laughter, " good morning ; I recognise you by your arm 
in a sling. What do you say to my last night's bulletin, 
my dear Cincinnatus? It was not worth as much as 
to-day's. Truth, the four asses are sold; Ginocchio 
writes us to withdraw the advertisement. Good morn- 
ing. Fox ; you are so thin, that I took you for the doc- 
tor's shadow. You lawyers have such tender consciences 
that you grow thin by your scruples. What have you 
brought us ?" 

"• This is the point in question," answered Fox, little 
flattered by the graciousness of Mr. Humbug. "The 
firm Little is making a small Mexican loan — ten million 
dollars to begin with. The shares are two hundred dol- 
lars each, issued at one hundred and sixty, and redeema- 
ble at par by annual drawing. Ten per cent, interest, 
twenty per cent, profit on the capital — it is a fine 
thing." 

"For Little," said Humbug, laughing; "and you 
want to advertise, '-Mundus vidt decipi^ ergo decipiatur.^ 
Be easy, Fox ; we will give you a nice little place in the 
journal. Between Holloway's ointment and Morrison's 
pills, your Mexican loan will do wonders." 



TRUTH, HUMBUG & GO. 63 

"I came to agree with you about the price," said 
Fox, 

"Do you want to know the rate of advertising? A 
cent a word, a dollar a hundred words. In this com- 
mon forest, all humbug at a fixed price, as you well 
know." 

"Pardon me, my dear Humbug," returned Fox, wink- 
ing, " you don't understand me. When I spoke of the 
price, I was not thinking of the rate of advertising. 
Little would like to have the plan of this useful and 
patriotic subscription inserted in the body of the journal, 
so that it may not look hke an advertisement. We will 
pay whatever is necessary. Do you understand me ?" 

" I am afraid I do, Master Fox," replied the fat man, 
without ceasing to laugh. " But, as old Plautus says : 
' Stidtitia est venatum clucere invitos canes^ You rose 
too late, my good Fox. On this side the water, simple- 
tons are not caught in so gross a snare ; it will do for the 
innocents of the Old World. Besides, if my advertise- 
ments are not in question, address yourself to my j)art- 
ner. Do you understand what we are asked to do, my 
dear Truth ? " 

" Perfectly," replied Truth, in an abrupt voice. " Mr. 
Little has need of our house to place his loan ; he sends 
to ask at what price I will sell myself." 

" Truth, my dear fellow, you take things wrongly," 
said Fox, in a wheedling tone. " We ask nothing of you 
but what other journals have promised us ; the Lynx^ 
the Su7i^ and the Tribune^ will recommend our loan ; I 
hope so, at least ; we are negotiating." 

"Since you have these journals," resumed Truth, 
"why do you come here? What need have you of 
me?" 



64: PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

" For a simple reason, my excellent friend," said Fox, 
in a honied voice. " There is little confidence on 'Change 
in anything but the Paris Telegraph; it is quite natural 
that we should endeavor to have you on our side. We 
will make any sacrifices iov it." 

"Mr. Fox," exclaimed the journalist, pale with emo- 
tion, " there is the door." 

" I am your servant, Mr. Truth," said the lawyer, dis- 
appearing. 

" I am not yours," replied my patient. " To-morrow, 
I will know what this loan is, and will publish it." 

" My dear sir," said I, with the authority of my pro- 
fession, "you will make yourself worse; you will dis- 
abuse no one, and will make yourself mortal enemies." 

" Enemies are our glory ; we are soldiers ; our place is 
in the fire." 

As he said this, he put both hands to his breast, and 
fell back into his easy chair. 

" Doctor," cried Humbug, " help him ; he is suifocat- 
ing. How can a man excite himself in this way, for this 
human rabble ? Truth, you selfish dog, you are killing 
yourself expressly to destroy me — me, your old friend. 
Come ! look at me." 

Truth stretched him his hand, smiling sadly. Despite 
myself, I felt a sort of pity for this poor Bohemian, who 
was sacrificing his life to the most chimerical and deplor- 
able of pursuits. 



TRUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 65^ 



CHAPTER IX. 

IN WHICH TKUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 

When the crisis had passed and the sick man had 
regained his breath, Humbug leaned both elbows on the 
table, and said in a tone which he strove to render gay, 
without succeeding 

"My dear Truth, no longer resist your true voca- 
tion ; turn preacher. Vices are tough ; they suffer them- 
selves to be maltreated without answering back. We 
castigate them vigorously every Sunday over the shoul- 
ders of our neighbor, after which we breakfast in 
peace and dine in the same way. But these bipeds who 
believe themselves men only because they walk on two 
paws, these wolves in round hats, these foxes in specta- 
cles, these apes in neck ties, these geese in black coats — 
we are only to approach them to laugh at their cruelty, 
their avarice, their cowardice and their stupidity. Who- 
ever takes them in earnest dies of a broken heart." 

" Here is my successor," says Truth, taking me by the 
hand, " my dear Humbug, the doctor will make you a 
good partner." 

"The doctor," returned Humbug, "impossible! he 
looks like a deer." 

" Of what kind of animal then," exclaimed I, " are 
journalists made?" 

"To make a good journalist," said Humbug, with 
comical gravity, " needs the face of a dog, the scent of 
a dog, the impudence of a dog, the courage of a dog, 



66 PAKIS IN AMEBIC A. 

and the fidelity of a dog. The face of a dog to mtimi- 
date knaves, the scent of a dog to smell them from afar, 
the impudence of a dog to bark at them in spite of their 
threats and grimaces, the courage of a dog to take them 
by the throat, the fidelity of a dog to start, stop and 
return at the first call of truth." 

" Mr. Superintendent of advertisements," said I, with 
impatience, " I did not suspect that you had so Hvely 
and disinterested a passion for truth." 

" Why so, wise Esculapius ?" returned he, in a ban- 
tering tone. " Do you think that I do not know that 
two and two make four ? What regulates the price of 
advertisements ? The number of readers. What brings 
readers ? Public opinion. Do we gain them by deceiv- 
ing public opinion? Truth is the body of the journal ; 
the advertisements are only its crinoline, a ridiculous 
costume, furnished by falsehood and vanity. Deswst iii 
piscem ^nulier formosa superne. Whose is the fault? 
The spirit and good taste of the public." 

" Sir," said I, turning over the snufi"-box in my hands 
to give weight to my words, " all truths are not to be 
spoken. There are those which disturb and break up 
society." 

" Yes, my dear doctor, truth is revolutionary." 

" At length," I exclaimed, " you confess it." 

" Doubtless. See the Reformation ; at what a cost did 
it free the human conscience ?" 

"That is so! that is so!" said I, raj)ping with my 
cane. 

" And the Gospel," resumed Humbug, " what sub- 
version! A system of civilization destroyed, Jupiter 
dethroned, the Caesars despised and overthrown ! How 
happy it would have been to have stifled in its beginning 



I 



TEUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 67 

this truth which slew a world and brought forth a new 
one ! Ah, my dear Hij^pocrates, you are silent. And 
the French Revolution ?" 

" Sir," exclaimed I, " let us not touch sacred things ! 
It was the resistance of the privileged classes that did all 
the harm. Acknowledge, at length, that there are truths 
which appal " 

" Yes ; as the hght appals thieves." 

" There are truths which are odious to those who hear 
them." 

"Yes; when they disturb drunkenness, or awaken 
remorse." 

" There are truths which are dangerous to those who 
speak them." 

"Yes; when they have the heart of a slave or a 
footman." 

I turned my back on this shameless sophist, who did 
not fear to attack wise prejudices and to shake the pil- 
low on which the world has been sleeping for two thou- 
sand years, and addressed myself to Truth, who had 
resumed his cutting, and seemed not to hear us. 

" What are you thinking of, my dear patient ?" said I. 
" Our conversation wearies you, perhaps ?" 

" Doctor," replied he, smiling, " forgive the imperti- 
nence of my fancy, I was thinking of Pilate. I heard 
this grave ruler saying to Christ, ' What is the truth f 
and going out without attending to the answer. In the 
time of Tiberius Cassar, you would have made an excel- 
lent governor of Judea. 

" What !" added he, becoming animated, " do you not 
feel that to us men, truth is life and falsehood death ? 
Seek around you the prosperous, enlightened, upright, 
charitable countries ; are they not those where every one 



68 PARIS IN AMEEICA. 

has a right to tell the truth, the whole truth, without 
distinction of persons, without respect to jDrejudices, pri- 
vileges and abuses? Seek the miserable, ignorant, im- 
moral countries ; are they not those where, under every 
form, official falsehood rules? Contemplate the great- 
ness of England, the growth of America, the rising for- 
tune of Australia. In eighty years, what power has 
raised our United States from three million to thirty-one 
million men? Do not deceive yourself, it is truth. 
Leave politicians to build up systems and combine forms 
of government ; see what are the living institutions of 
free peoples. Schools, associations, the rostrum, the 
press — what are all these, if not so many instruments to 
propagate truth and to win all hearts to it ? Count the 
journals of a people, and you will have its rank in the 
scale of civilization — it is a thermometer which never 
errs. Why ? Because truth is, under another name, 
only the law which governs the moral world ; because 
there are natural relations between men, as between 
things. To recognize and respect these relations is to 
recognize and respect the truth, or rather, God himself, 
present in the world by his almighty truth." 

" Dear Mr. Truth," rei^lied I, a little moved by this 
flow of words, "Humbug is right, you were born to 
l^reach. But experience has long smce taught me that 
practice is the opposite of theory. Plow many truths, 
admirable at a distance, fail on being put to the test ! 
Every day I hear it repeated that men are brethren, that 
w^oman is the equal of man, that governments are made 
for the people " 

" Do you doubt it ?" said Truth. 

" No, I do not doubt it theoretically / but try to put 
these fine maxims in practice, and what will come of it?" 



TRUTH FESTDS HIS MATCH. bd 

" The kingdom of Jesus Christ," rej^lied the journalist^ 
with singular gravity. " If you have no more noble 
ideal," added he, " if you have nothing to put in its place, 
do not play the sad role of Mephistopheles. Humanity 
needs to hope and believe." 

*' Come, charming doctor, you who do not believe in 
theory," exclaimed Humbug, with an impertinent laugh, 
" when you speak, do you know what you are saying ? 
when you give a remedy to your patients, do you know 
what you are doing ? Do not be angry ; if you know, 
you are only putting theory in practice ; if you do not 
know, what right have you to be so proud of not rea- 
soning ?" 

I sunk into my easy chair, crossed my arms and legs, 
and, looking Humbug full in the face : 

" Sir," said I, " listen to me seriously, if you are capa- 
ble of anything serious. In theory, once more, I love 
truth, and I love it as much as you can do ; but the press 
is not truth. It is a mingling of passions, insults and 
falsehoods which excite the indignation of a sensitive 
heart. The savage liberty which rules in this country is 
not to my taste ; I have long reflected on the subject, 
and I will tell you, if you will deign to listen to me, how 
it is possible to organize the press, wisely administer the 
truth, abolish the license of evil, and leave nothing but 
the liberty of good." 

" Hinder dogs from barking !" cried Humbug, burst- 
ing into laughter ; " the quadrature of the circle is 
found." 

" I suppose," continued I, without replying to this jest, 
" I suppose an enlightened, moral, paternal government, 
thinking only of the good of its subjects." 

" Doctor, this is theory 1" 



70 PAEIS IN" AMERICA. 

"No, sir, this is observation. In this government 
there are intelligent ministers " 

" I understand," said the insupportable mocker ; " en- 
lightened, moral, paternal ministers, thinking only of the 
good of those under their admuiistration." 

"Yes, sir; and these ministers have under their com- 
mand thousands of agents " 

" AU enlightened, moral, paternal, etc. ; in a word, a 
legion of angels in black coats." 

" In Heaven's name. Humbug, be silent," cried Truth. 
" Let him finish his fairy tale. I fancy I hear a 
Frenchman who imagines that he reasons because he 
strings paradoxes together and sews words one upon 
another." 

" Mr. Truth," answered I, drily, " reason and experi- 
ence are speaking through my lips ; listen to me. To 
the hands of this wise government, which knows every- 
thing, sees everything, and listens to everything — to its 
hands, I say, I would confide the deposit of truth-^not 
that I would be willing to give it the monopoly of it ; I 
am the friend of liberty, but regulated, limited, moral- 
ized ! I would therefore reduce the number of printers, 
in such a manner as to make a prudent and discreet cen- 
sorship of typography, a conservative priesthood ; then I 
would limit the number of journals; veritable pulpits, 
where naught but decency and moderation would be suf- 
fered to speak. Journalists would be like priests ; that 
is, ministers of the truth, who would receive from the 
government their type and character. If, despite the 
wise direction of the state, some insolent gazetteer, for- 
getting the gravity of his duties, should be wanting in 
the respect which he owed to the sovereign power, the 
personification of justice and truth, I would not have re- 



TKIJTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 71 

course to the jury, which has a heavy hand and lets 
more than one doubtful innocent sUp through its fingers ; 
it is to the administration, always j)owerful and protec- 
tive, that I would leave the holy mission of blighting 
falsehood and, if need were, arresting it even before it was 
born. The administration, always prudent, enlightened 
and disinterested, and knowing better than any one 
what suited it or fettered its plans — the administration 
would chastise audacity and ignorance ; it would stifle 
opposition in the bud, as Hercules strangled serpents in 
his cradle. Thanks to this ingenious hygiene, the jour- 
nals would be innocent food, an antidote instead of a 
poison ; the press would be a torch in the hands of the 
ruling power, we would no longer stand in fear of 
conflagration. Useful prejudices, salutary errors would 
be treated Avith circumspection ; truth would be gradu- 
ated to the necessities of the state and the strength of 
the people ; and if any new doctrine appeared in for- 
eign countries, Ave Avould wait until it had made the 
fortune of the country of its birth before uselessly disturb- 
ing tranquil souls Avith it that sighed only for repose. 
This is my theory, Mr. Humbug, what do you say 
to it?" 

"Damned rascal !" exclaimed he, letting fly a bloAV of 
the fist at my shoulder, which might have knocked down 
an ox. " When a man is happy enough to have wit, he 
always has some foolish thing to say. With his solemn 
air, this cunning dog mystified, for a moment, an old 
Yankee like me." 

" Mr. Humbug," said I, rubbing my shoulder, " these 
brutal arguments are not to my taste. To knock doAvn 
is not to ansAver." 

"No more is to strangle," cried the journalist, laugh- 



72 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

ing. *' Go OD, doctor ; you are more amnsing than you 
think! Verba 2ylace?it et vox. But good-bye; the hour 
has come to make \\^ the paper ; time is money ; you are 
ruiuing me !" 

Left alone with Mr. Truth, I asked him if he had not 
been struck, like me, with the profundity of the system 
which I set forth ; if he could place the turbulence and 
disorder of the American press in comparison with this 
compact mechanism, wliich in little time must bridle the 
most ardent nation on earth, and give it the habit of 
moderation and the taste for innocent freedom. 

" Doctor," said he, mildly, " I am of Humbug's opinion. 
You are laughing at our simplicity. I have long known 
this doctrine, which you present to us as a new inven- 
tion. It is the dogma of the Inquisition. Truth becomes 
an official instrument, iiutrimientwn regni^ monopolized 
by the church and the state. Three centuries ago, Luther 
annihilated these dangerous chimeras, and replaced every 
Christian in possession of his conscience and rights. In 
the earliest days of the world, truth flew out of Pandora's 
box, with so many other blessings, which also are evils 
in unskillful hands. To seek for truth is the work of all, 
to take exclusive possession of it belongs to no one. Do 
not be satisfied with words. Government, ministers, 
functionaries — what are all these, if not men, neither 
more infallible nor more learned than we? To make 
them the dispensers of truth is a dream. Truth belongs 
to all, like the air and the light ; the only thing possible 
is to stifle it, is to hinder men not from thinking but from 
speaking. Who would profit by so detestable an inven- 
tion ? The ruling power ? It would be the first victim. 
It would be deceived unceasingly. A handful of in- 
triguers would suffice to lead the most honest magistrate 



TKUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 



73 



into the maddest adventures. Do you not see, moreover, 
that you give your government full power to act wrong- 
ly, provided it takes care to reason wrongly ? Would 
the citizens gain by it ? On the day when public affairs 
are no longer their affairs, you take away from them 
what is noblest, most beautiful, greatest in life — the 
love of country and the passion of liberty. Take away 
the agitation of the rostrum and new^spapers, and society 
is no longer but a stagnant pool, whence arises corrup- 
tion and death. Would you secure at least material 
prosperity, the only bait which tempts the crowd ? 
Quite the contrary ; wealth is the fruit of liberty. There 
is no security either of finances, or commerce, or indus- 
try, except in the countries which swarm with those 
journals whose voice importunes you. Silence is the 
triumph of fools ; darkness is not the kingdom of honest 
men ; leave us light, noise, and life. Remember that 
at Rome, likewise, there was an outcry against the 
loquacity of the rostrums ; that one day Sylla silenced 
them, to the great joy of the witlings, and that thence- 
forth commenced the decline from which Christianity 
even could not upraise the universe." 

" I beg your pardon," replied I, astonished at the turn 
which the discussion was taking ; "I do not pretend to 
have found the philosopher's stone in politics. Every 
system has its abuses; it is a question of proportion. 
Admit that the language of your journals is frightful, 
and that there is no more terrible evil than their unbri- 
dled license." 

" Doctor, you know Avhat the Gospel says : By their 
fruits ye shall know them. Find me a country where 
there is more enlightenment, more charity, more mate- 
rial prosperity, than in America." 



74 



PARIS IN AMERICA. 



" I see nothing but scandal everywhere," answered I. 
" The very foundations of society are giving way in that 
quicksand which you call democracy. What do you 
respect ? Religion ? Well, let a pastor be wanting in 
his duty — let his conduct be light — directly twenty jour- 
nals begin to laugh at him, like the unworthy son of 
Noah, instead of hiding from all eyes a weakness, the 
shame of which is reflected upon the church." 

" The shame," said Truth, " is to the church which 
espouses the cause of the criminal, not to the one which 
casts out of it a corrupt member." 

" Do you spare justice ? Yesterday even, your journal 
attacked, with cynical bitterness, a judge who had spo- 
ken roughly to some knave in a moment of ill humor. 
How do you expect the judge to be respected, if he is 
not infallible ?" 

" Justice," said Truth, " is made for the accused, and 
not the accused for justice." 

" Let a subaltern exceed his powers," I continued ; 
" let him forget the law by chance, and arrest by mis- 
take an innocent person ; directly ten journals will howl 
at the tyranny, like dogs barking at the moon. They 
svill set the country hi a blaze for the cause of the vilest 
of wretches, for a beggar or a thief, thrown in prison 
without the forms having been observed." 

"They will do right," said Truth. "The liberty of 
the vilest of wretches is the concern of all. As soon as 
legal forms are violated, as soon as a citizen is unjustly 
attacked, all are menaced. Whoever does not feel this, 
does not know what is hberty." 

" la it not sometimes necessary to veil the statue of 
the law, and to save the country in spite of a false 
legality ?" 



TRUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 75 

" Doctor, you have a weakness for Pilate. He likewise 
was not checked by a false legality ; he chose rather to 
condemn an innocent man than to risk his place. He 
was a man of ability ; I know not why the world is so 
severe with him." 

" What has come of it ?" continued I, more and more 
irritated by the coldness of Truth. " Twelve or fifteen 
newspapers — these are the masters of public opinion and 
the republic." 

" Fifteen newspapers !" said Truth, astonished ; " what 
do you mean by that ? We have three hundred, which 
is very little for sixteen hundred thousand souls. Boston 
has a hundred for less than two hundred thousand inhab- 
itants. It is true that in Boston, a Puritan city, liberty 
and civilization are understood otherwise than at Paris." 

" Three hundred newspapers !" exclaimed I, surprised 
at this formidable number. " Who, then, directs and 
governs public opinion ? The first comer can, without 
a mission, set himself up as a prophet and legislator ; the 
first dreamer can say what he will, and impose his opin- 
ions on the crowd. It is an atrocious despotism ! " 

" My good friend," said Truth, lowering his voice 
to bring me back to a less noisy pitch, "do not 
again begin your jests ; they amuse Humbug, but 
hurt me. Where all the world can speak, there is 
neither mission nor prophet^ nor first comer. There 
is a right which belongs to every citizen, and which 
every citizen uses for his private interest, or for the 
interest of the whole. Among a free people, who ever 
dreams of directing and governing public opinion ? 
Certainly not a Yankee, who lays down for himself his 
own rule of action, and chooses his party and colors with 
full knowledge of the case. The press is an echo which 



76 PARIS m AMERICA. 

repeats the ideas of all the world, nothing more. These 
innumerable newspapers have but one object — to accu- 
mulate facts, information, and ideas — to increase and dif- 
fuse enlightenment ! The more of these there are, the 
more opportunity has each citizen to read, reflect, and 
judge for himself To place the truth within the reach 
of all — this is our ambition. This pretended newspaper 
despotism exists only in your imagination. At most it 
would be possible only where an ill-advised government, 
making of journalism a monopoly against itself, would 
permit only ten or fifteen sheets, and would thus oblige 
parties to coalesce against it, which, by their nature, tend 
to disperse. But in America, where there are eight or 
nine hundred newspapers, where new ones spring up 
every day, the number of tyrants has killed the tyranny. 

" So be it. It is a system not foreseen by Aristotle — a 
paper democracy. In this happy country, everything is 
government, except the government itself You jour- 
nalists (and everybody here is a journalist), you are 
more than the Church, more than the law, more than 
the State. What are you then?" 

*' The answer is too easy," said Truth. " We are so- 
ciety." 

" But if society — if the people govern, who then are 
the governed ?" 

" Doctor," answered the journalist, smiling, " when you 
conduct yourself into the street, who then is conducted ? 
Through love of a word, must you have leading strings ? 
When you govern your passions (which you do not 
always do), who then is governed ? There is an age of 
maturity for peoples as for individuals. Let China grow 
old in an eternal infancy, I pity her ; but we Chiistians, 
we citizens of a great country, we are not a people of 



TRUTH FINDS HIS IVIATCH. 77 

idiots and outlaws. We have long since escaped from 
tutelage, and managed our own affairs. What is this 
popular sovereignty which we have placarded for seventy- 
years at the head of our constitutions, if not a declara- 
tion of majority ?" 

" Comparisons prove nothing," returned I, drily 
" What is true of an individual is not true of a nation." 

" Still words, doctor. A nation is a collection of indi- 
viduals. What is true of ten, twenty, a thousand per- 
sons, is also true of a million. At what number then 
does incapacity begin ?" 

" No," said I, '' it is not true that a nation is a sim- 
ple collection of individuals. It is quite a different 
thing." 

" That is to say, the total of a column of figures is a 
different thing from the sum of all the units." 

" Wrong !" I exclaimed, wearied of arguing with a 
narrow mind. " The difference here stares one in the 
face. To rid themselves of private interests, what is the 
magical word invoked by all statesmen ? The general 
interest. When it is wished to annul rights and peti- 
tions which incommode the government, what is alleged ? 
A superior interest, the social interest. Public utility is 
the negation of individual rights ; such, at least, is the 
manner of reasoning and acting in all civilized countries. 
If it were enough to listen to the will of the majority, 
and to sum up interests and wishes, let me just ask you 
what politics would be ? A grocer's trade, a role within 
the reach of the first honest comer. Picture to yourself a 
Csesar, a Richelieu, a Cromwell, a Louis XIV., Ustening 
to the voice of a peasant, or taking the votes of a few 
thousand citizens! What would become of the combi- 
nations, the alhances, the wars, the conquests ? — all those 



78 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

brilliant strokes, all those freaky of fortune by which 
heroes triumph ? To drag a nation to victory and glory, 
to impose on the popular masses ideas which are not 
their own, to make them serve an ambition and projects 
which in no wise concern them — this is the work of 
genius ! This is what the people love. They adore those 
who trample them under foot. Leave these poor men to 
themselves — they will plant their cabbages ; their annals 
wiU be contained in two lines, like the moral of fairy- 
tales. They lived long, were happy, and had many chil- 
dren. With this fine system, what would history be ? 
and wherewith would we teach rhetoric to our chil- 
dren ?" 

I was eloquent ; I felt it. Truth, confounded, gazed at 
me with a peculiar air. 

" Doctor," said he, " I do not like sophisms ; but of 
aU these witticisms, there are none more odious to me 
than the paradoxes of former times — falsehoods long 
since dead. They produce the efiect on me of an old 
courtesan who has forgotten to be buried, and who walks 
among the youth disgusted with her paint, false curls, 
and wrinkles. Washington has taught the world what 
an honest man is, governing a free people. The thing 
has been proved. The age of political egotism is passed ; 
there is no longer room except for patriotism. Whoever 
does not comprehend this ; whoever does not hear the 
voice of new generations ; whoever does not feel that 
industry, peace, and liberty are the sovereigns of the 
moral Avorld is only a dreamer and a madman. It is 
not to glory that he goes, but to ridicule." 

" No more of that, sir !" said I, rising ; and, despite my- 
self, I carried my hand to the hilt of my absent sword. 
If I had had on my uniform of surgeon of the National 



TRUTH FINDS HIS MATCH. 79 

Guard, I would have forced this msolent wretch to draw 
his weo-pon, and, by making him bite the dust, would 
have proved to him beyond reply that America under- 
stands nothing of civilization, and that a Frenchman is 
never in the wrong. 



80 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE INFERNAL KITCHEN. 

While Truth, surprised at my transport of rage, cast 
on me uneasy glances, Humbug entered, carrying a bun- 
dle of proofs, which he placed on the desk. 

" Quick !" cried he in his gruff voice, " the task begins. 
Nunc animis opus, ^7iea, nunc pectore firmo. Doctor, 
help us ; your riglit arm is at liberty ; take this paper 
and prepare the bulletin." 

"Write, Defeat of the Federal Troops. This will fill 
all our first column." And he threw a proof into the 
letter-box. 

" Defeat !" said I, *' are you going to announce to the 
country that it is beaten ? Put, Strategic retreat ! Adroit 
manoeuvre! otherwise your imprudence will spread 
anxiety and dismay everywhere." 

" Doctor, you are incorrigible," resumed Truth, " once 
more, the whole truth is due the country. Do you think 
that the Yankees are cast down by a reverse, and that, 
like children, they suffer themselves to be led by for- 
tune? A victory would find us indifferent; a defeat 
would be equivalent to a redoubling of energy, soldiers 
and money. How many men are killed ?" 

"3,000 killed," said Humbug, "6,000 wounded, 
2,400 missing." 

Give the figures," returned Truth ; " doctor, do not 
forget them on the bulletin. Now, what has been done 
in Congress ?" 



THE INFERNAL KITCHEN. 81 

" In the Senate," said Humbug, " a long discussion on 
slavery. Mr. Sumner has eifected the abolition of 
slavery in the Federal district of Columbia. It is a 
first step. Doctor, write. Admirable speech of the elo- 
quent se?iator from Massachusetts. Here is our first 
page filled ; we come to the next. Nothing of interest 
in the House of Representatives ; three calls to order and 
time wasted in quarrels Avith the Speaker." 

" According to custom," said Truth ; " go on. Here 
is the political article ; write, doctor, Heturn to Law and 
Liberty.^ the Habeas Corpus reestablished^ 

" What !" said I, astonished, " at the moment of a 
defeat, when it is necessary to concentrate authority and 
to govern manu onilitari^ you reestablish civil liberty 
with all its dangers ! Know by experience that it is 
the moment to suspend all rights. Nothing reassures 
a people like feeling itself entirely in the hands of 
the ruling power. Truly, you understand nothing of 
politics." 

"Despotism is not strength," replied Truth, "the 
freer a people is, the more it is gentle, obedient and 
resigned to sacrifices. If you wish it to sustain you, 
confide yourself to it. Let us proceed. Exposure to 
the nation of Thefts in the Navy. Write, doctor, and 
underline the words, that they may appear in rehef on 
the bulletin." 

" This is too great boldness," I exclaimed ; " think of 
the interests which you will injure, of the complaints 
which you will call forth." 

" Let the thieves complain," said Truth, " I am ready 
for them, I have proofs !" 

"Proofs ! who has furnished them to you ?" 

" Wherever there is a rostrum," replied Truth, " there 
4* 



82 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

is some one to speak. Among a people on whom silence 
is imposed, the thieves act and the plundered are silent ; 
among a people where every citizen is an active member 
of the nation and has a right to prosecute in the name 
of the country, the thieves hide and the plundered cry 
out and act. In Russia, twenty millions given to the 
police will not hinder thousands of millions from being 
stolen, the police will be bought cheaply; among us, 
where the police is the whole nation, one does not steal 
a penny without trembling. The suppression of swin- 
dling on a large scale is not the least advantage of 
liberty. Let us proceed to the foreign news." 

" Here," said Humbug, " are the three correspond- 
ences from London." 

" Why three correspondences ?" asked I, surprised at 
this useless extravagance. 

" There are three parties in England," replied Hum- 
bug ; " we need, therefore, three echoes to repeat all the 
tones. First correspondence, colors of Old Pam : ' War 
against America — ^justice is a fine thing, but cotton is 
better — let us burn the world, to warm England.' Sec- 
ond correspondence, colors of Earl Derby : * Old Pam 
trifles with the public ; he cries, to arms ! pockets fortifi- 
cations and iron-plated ships, plays soldier, and desires 
but two things — to keep the peace and his place ; give 
us the ministry ; we will be as patriotic, and will cost 
less.' Third correspondence, colors of Bright and Cob- 
den : ' John Bull, my friend, your government is fooling 
you ; it is tickling your vanity to wheedle you out of 
the last shilling ; be a man, imitate your cousin Jonathan, 
and attend to your own business ; when people no longer 
sufier themselves to be taken care of by those ruinous 
charlatans styled diplomatists and great politicians, they 



THE INFERNAL KITCHEN. 06 

will live like brothers ; they wiU have peace and cheap 
living.' " 

" I hope," said I to Humbug, " that in giving these 
three correspondences to the public, you append to them 
your opinion." 

" Not at all," replied Humbug ; " Jonathan is in the 
habit of forming his own opinions ; he has too good eyes 
to use our spectacles." 

The door opened abruptly. Three women, young and 
elegantly dressed, approached us ; the oldest, who was 
under twenty-five, addressed us in a tone at once modest 
and self-reliant : *^' 

*' Sir," said she to Humbug, " we are deputed by the 
lady coat-makers, to ask you to advertise that we are on 
a strike, and that we shall hold a meeting next Monday, 
to seek the means of shaking off the oppression from 
which we suffer; we Avish to regain and secure our 
rights." 

" The tailors are rich," said Humbug ; " before bring, 
ing them to terms, you will eat up all your savings; have 
you a million to draw from ?" 

"Sir," said the youngest, with a stubborn air, "a 
hundred dollars' worth of advertisements will do the 
work for us. We will teach these gentlemen tailors, 
and the whole world, what five hundred women can do, 
who have taken it into their heads not to yield. It is a 
lesson which will do good to monopolizers and tyrants — 
a lesson which will make the despots of the Old World 
turn pale on their thrones. Oblige us only by inserting 
in to-morrow's paper the address to the public, drawn 
up and resolved on by our committee." 

Upon this, our Amazon handed to the journalist a 
paper folded twice. Humbug read aloud this imperti- 



84: PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

nent pleasantry, a memorable monument of feminine 
perversity and folly, in a country where the women 
themselves believe in liberty : 

TO THE PARISIANS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 

LADY COAT-MAKEES. 

"To avenge our slighted rights and obtain justice, we, the 
lady coat-makers of the city of Paris (Mass.), have struck for 
wages ; in eight days either our tyrants will yield, or we shall 
be out of employment. Who will give us work ? We do not 
wish to Jkand with our hands folded, but we are determined .j 
not to work for nothing, for the profit of men who are able to 
pay. Who is in want of a helping hand ? We know how to 
make hats, coats, puddings, cakes, and pies ; we know how to 
sew, embroider, knit, wash, and boil; we know how to milk 
cows, make butter and cheese, tend poultry, and take care of 
the garden ; we know how to clean the kitchen, sweep the par- 
lor, make beds, split wood, kindle fires, wash and iron, and 
moreover we adore babies. In a word, every one of us would 
make an accomplished housekeeper. As to our wit and intelli- 
gence, inquire of our former employers. Speak quickly, gentle- 
men. AYho wants black eyes, fine foreheads, wavy and curling 
hair, the charms and youth of Hebe, the voice of a seraph, the 
smile of an angel ? Old gentlemen who arc in need of a good 
housekeeper, handsome young men who are in search of an 
active and devoted wife, speak; the way is open. Going, going 
— gone ! Who is the happy mortal ? 

^^ Apply to the Committee of Lady Coat-MaTcers^ 
" No. 20 Poplar Street:' 

"Very well, ladies," said Humbug, "the advertise- 
ment will appear this evening in the paper, and we will 
put on the bulletin : Tailoresses' Strike ! that no one 
may be ignorant of it." 



THE INFERNAL KnCHEN. 85 

Saying this, he made a profound bow, and showed out 
these silly jades with as much pohteness as if a prefect 
had been in question. 

*' Is it possible," exclaimed I, " that in America women 
have the right to do as they please ? Is not this to give 
^the lie to experience and common sense ? Meetings of 
tailoresses, unions of washerwomen, a strike of midwives ! 
Revolution in coats is odious ; revolution in petticoats is 
ridiculous." 

*' What is ridiculous," replid Truth, with his ordinary 
phlegm, " is that the coats ascribe to themselves the 
right to oppress the petticoats ?" 

"It is well," I ansAvered. " FUl these foolish heads 
with the intoxication of liberty ; you will see who will 
be the first victims." 

*' Doctor, you are dismal," said Truth ; " at the least 
shock to your old-fashioned prejudices, you cry out that 
the world is going to end. Women, my dear sir, are 
one half the human race ; this is a profound truth, veri- 
fied by Aristotle, but for two thousand years no one has 
understood the philosopher except the Americans. If 
our women did not share our hopes and fears, they 
would make us share their weaknesses and caprices. 
We need wives, daughters and mothers who love liberty 
passionately, that the husbands, fathers and sons may 
never lose this holy love. These tailoresses appear 
ridiculous to you ; for my part, I admire them, while 
laughing at their advertisement ; I love generous souls 
that have faith in justice and defend their rights. It is 
*from souls like these that a great nation is made ; herein 
is the superiority of our beautiful country." 

"Let us finish the paper," said Humbug; "here are 
the markets. Cotton, wool, coal, iron, wheat, grain, 



86 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

pork, mutton, beef, hay, leather, sugar, coffee. There 
is nothing special, except concerning wheat; choice 
brands are selling two per cent higher than common 
brands." 

"What brands?" said Truth, taking up the list. 
" Colfax, Stevens, Pennington — these names must be 
underlined and printed in large type ; you laugh, doctor, 
this is no trifling matter. Individual responsibility is 
the strength and life of republics. It is necessary that 
every one therein should bear inscribed on his forehead 
what he is or what he has done. To join to honesty 
reputation and fortune, to attach to rascality infamy and 
ruin, is the secret of morals and government — it is a 
problem of which no legislator has found the solution, 
and which the press resolves every day." 

" A fine tirade concerning a barrel of flour !" 

"And the application of which you will see in an 
instant ; look here — Pork market, twenty barrels dam- 
aged, of the brands Thomas and Williams. To under- 
line these two dishonest names is to drive them from the 
market." 

"You will not do it," cried I; "you have not the 
right. Is it not enough for you to be the government, 
do you wish also to be the police ?" 

"You have said it, worthy doctor," returned Hum- 
bug; "we are the police, and still more — we are the 
public conscience. It is we that give honor and fortune. 
Honestus rumor alterum patrimojiium est. Open your 
eyes wide if it amuses you, and make an outcry if it 
gives you pleasure. But, indeed, if you speak seriously, 
you must have been changed at nurse ; you are not an 
American." 

" You do not know," murmured I, " you do not know, 



THE INFERNAL KITCHEN. 87 

ignoramus, how near you arc right ; you do not suspect 
to what extent I despise a Don Quixote mad enough to 
take in hand the interest of others, the interest of the 
first comer, and this without mission or pay. See what 
a country is without functionaries! Every one there 
must meddle even with his o^\^l business. It is ridi- 
culous! In France, an intelligent and compact admin- 
istration frees me from all care. I am a king; I am. 
waited on ; I enjoy in peace a prosperity and greatness 
which costs me nothing but my money. It is the tri- 
umph of civilization, or I do not know myself." 

" Here is the money article," said a young man, enter- 
ing, out of breath from running. 

" Anything new ?" asked Humbug. 

" Nothing but the Mexican loan." 

" What do they say of it, Eugene ?" said Mr. Truth. 

" A complete fiasco, a swindle of old Little's." 

" What ! a swindle ?" said I, reading the stock list ; "the 
loan has risen a dollar above the rate of emission." 

" Little has bought with one hand and sold with the 
other," said Truth ; " it is an old trick, but it will never 
succeed with us. We are not such sheep. Mr. Rose," 
added he, addressing the new comer, " make me an 
article for to-morrow on this matter; see the stock 
agents and learn the whole truth." 

"It will be ready this evening, Mr. Truth. I shall 
have more information than I need." 

" Sir," said I to the young man, whose name an- 
nounced him as a son of the apothecary, and, alas! a 
brother of my future son-in-law, " transactions must be 
very difficult to effect, with this fashion of throwing them 
open for the public benefit." 

" Sir," replied Eugene, quite astonished, " transactions 



88 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

are the easier, the better they are known. On 'Change, 
falsehood is ruinous, truth is wealth." 

" Good !" thought I ; *' they all repeat the same non- 
sense. At Paris, the centre of intellect, the capital of 
wit, every one knows that the transactions to which the 
public rush are always those of which it understands 
nothing. What can a known transaction give ? Five 
or six per cent at most, while the unknown promises 
fifteen or twenty per cent — therein is the secret of the 
banker. Here, value is truckled for value — a miserable 
trade ; at Paris, one buys hope — it is the poetry of play, 
it is the charm of the lottery. What matters it to a 
Frenchman if he lose his money ; this is prose. To feast 
on wealth in thought, to satisfy passions, caprices, am- 
bition in dreams, this is the ideal ; one pays for it, it is 
true, but can he pay too dearly for illusion ?" 

" Friend Humbug," said a squeaking voice, " here are 
two advertisements which I should like to have inserted 
in the body of thy journal ; thee must throw ofi" consi- 
derable, the times are hard." 

The speaker was a little man in a long overcoat, with 
an immense hat ; his face, gesture and costume said to 
every one — " Look at me, I am a Quaker." 

Humbug took the two advertisements, and burst out 
laughing. 

" They are droll," said he ; " but I do not understand 
them." He read as follows : 

"Montmorency Villa. — Seth Doolittle, proprietor of the 
Rose Hotel at Montmorency, has the honor to inform the pub- 
lic that, during the summer season, lovers who visit his house 
will be charged but half price." 

" Why this exception ?" asked I. 



THE INFERNAL KITCHEN. 89 

" Friend," answered the little man, crossing his hands 
on his abdomen and raising his eyes to heaven, " nothing 
is more beautiful or worthy of respect than love. Put a 
young man opposite a white dress and black curls flut- 
tering in the wind, and he feels so celestial, so ethereal, 
that all the week he will never stoop to touch roast beef. 
It is nothing but robbery to make these angels of hea- 
ven, who never examine a bill, pay the common price ; 
my conscience will not suffer this iniquity." 

" The scruple does you honor," said Humbug, biting 
his lips. " Let us proceed to the next insertion." 

" Feiendly Counsel. — Dinah D. L. — You art entreated not 
to return. Your mother is in excellent health ; nothing can be 
arranged ; and your whole family has been much better since 
you quitted it." 

" This is a family secret," said I, smiling. " There's 
no explanation." 

" To the public, no ; to thee. Dr. Smith, yes," returned 
the Quaker. " It concerns a sister, a giddy brain, whom, 
for her own sake and that of her family, and through 
care for the pubhc morality, we have sent to CaUfornia 
as a schoolmistress. There is reason to fear that the un- 
happy girl may stop on the way and wish to return to 
her evil ways. We, therefore, warn her charitably and 
in covert language, that she will do better to continue 
her journey; there is no room for her at home." 

"This is admirable charity, Mr. Seth," returned I, 
shrugging my shoulders. " I regret not having sooner 
recognized so worthy a man." 

" Thee would have had some difficulty in recognizing 
me," answered Seth, casting down his eyes ; " thee has 
never seen me ; but Martha has described her master 



90 PAEIS IN AMEKICA. 

and the terrible accident of yesterday to me with such 
fidelity, that I guessed who thee was at the first 
glance." 

The virtuous hotel-keeper pronounced the name of 
Martha with a strange unction, which later recurred to 
my memory ; I should have paid more attention to it had 
not a man, with a flushed face, entered the room ab- 
ruptly, crying, " Great news, Mr. Truth ; great news, 
Mr. Humbug : the mayor of the city has just been con- 
demned. He was surprised in criminal conversation with 
an actress of the Lyoeum^ and has been sentenced to pay 
the husband ten thousand dollars' damages." 

" Doctor," said Humbug, " take the pen and finish 
our bulletin ; our paper is well filled, the sale is sure. 
Let us see : 

Defeat of the Federal Troops, 

3,000 killed, 6,000 wounded. 

Admirable Speech of the eloquent Senator from Massachusetts. 

RETURN TO LAW AND LIBERTY. 

Exposure to the nation of Thefts in the Navy, 

TAILORESSES' STRIKE. 

CRIMINAL CONVICTION OF THE 
MAY OB OF THE CITY. 

" Come," continued he, " this is a good day's work ; 
we have barked well at the knaves. To press !" he ex- 
claimed. " Work, boys, and in a quarter of an hour put 
up the bulletin." 



PRIVATE LIFE SHOULD BE IMMURED. 91 



CHAPTER XI. 

ON THE CONSERVATIVE MAXIM : PHvatc Life should 
he immured. 

I SUNK into my easy-chair, reflecting aside on the sad 
spectacle which I had before my eyes. Devouring anar- 
chy, general espionage, universal commotion, the govern- 
ment in the hands of everybody — such was this so much 
vaunted press ! How form a people into an army with 
such an enemy in your rear ! 

" "Well, my dear doctor," said Truth, in a soothing 
voice, " you know now how a newspaper is made. Are 
you tempted ? Are you to be my successor in the 
paper ?" 

" Never ! never !" replied T, drawing back my chair 
by an involuntary gesture. " What I see terrifies me ; 
you play with all that I have been taught to regard as 
respectable and sacred. Let a minister or his deputies 
be attacked, it matters little, I am accustomed to it; 
from all time, ministers have served as a butt to pam- 
phleteers ; the most celebrated journalist is he who has 
overthrown the most. If there are countries and peo- 
ples whom this destruction amuses, much good may it 
do them ! I wish them two or three revolutions to cure 
them of it. But private life, sir, should be immured ; do 
you hear, sir, hermetically immured." 

" Who says so ?" asked Humbug, with a sly air, which 
only proved his ignorance. 

" Mr. Humbug," replied I, " it is M. Royer Collard, a 



92 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

great metaphysician, who has never had any ideas of his 
own, but who has cast in bronze and engraved on brass 
the ideas of others. It is he, this illustrious sage, who has 
uttered this golden speech, which should be posted up 
in every newspaper office — * Private life should be im- 
mured.'' " 

" Your great metaphysician talks nonsense," answered 
Humbug. " Can a man be cut in two ? Is a man a 
knave in private life and a Fabricius in public life ? 
What is private life ? Wherfe does it begin, where end ? 
Is the cry of mad dog an attack on private or public life ? 
If our navy is plundered by impudent contractors, do we 
attack private life when we denounce the thief? If the 
Honorable Mr. Little, enriched by the millions of others, 
wishes once more to despoil simpletons in behalf of his 
insatiable cupidity, is to tell Mr. Little that he is a cheat 
to attack his private life ?" 

" Sir," said I to this impudent fellow, " you have no 
idea of all that I could reply to you ; a word will suffice. 
Here is the mayor of Paris, who has yielded to an un- 
happy weakness. Perhaps he has fallen into the snare 
spread by some siren of low degree ; most certainly, he 
has not committed this fault in the capacity of municipal 
magistrate. What is the use of this noise, this scandal, 
this defamation of a man whose error, after all, does not 
concern you ?" 

" What is the use ?" said Truth, with a frigidity worthy 
of Robespierre, " to make him resign. Do you wish us 
to preach respect for the conjugal bond and abhorrence 
of vice in our families in the face of adultery throned in 
the City Hall ? This cannot be. It is the honor of pri- 
vate life which answers to us for public virtue ; other- 
wise, pohtics are a comedy, in which each one wears a 



PKIVATE LIFE SHOULD BE IMMURED. 93 

mask, plays a part, and amuses himself by talking of 
conscience, rights, and duties, without believing a word 
of what he says. Let childish peoples take delight in 
these dangerous farces, which always end badly — this may 
be ; but in America, everything is in earnest. Let our 
debauchees go, if it seems good to them, to ruin their 
health and squander their fortune on the other side of 
the Atlantic ; among us it is necessary to be respectable 
to be respected." 

" Here is a letter from the mayor," said a clerk, " giv- 
ing in his resignation." 

*' Mr. Truth," exclaimed I, " there is still time ; stop 
the printing of the paper, strike out a condemnation 
which no longer concerns but a simple citizen, a sen- 
tence which is about to cause the dishonor of a man and 
the wretchedness of a family. EiFace from your bulletin 
those odious words which brand with a new stigma 
which the law has not foreseen, a fault, doubtless excus- 
able. Are there then only Catos in America ? and, since 
you constantly quote the Gospel, is there none among 
you that has read the story of the woman taken in adul- 
tery? In Heaven's name, be humane !" 

" I am neither humane nor cruel," replied Truth, with 
his icy tone ; " I am not a person, I am a journal ; that is 
to say, an echo, a pliotograph. The bulletin will remain 
as it is ; I am sorry for the culprit, but I too have a 
mission to fulfill, I do not compound with the truth. 

" But this mission," cried I, indignant, " you assume 
yourself !" 

" Is it therefore the less holy ?" returned the journal- 
ist. " Understand the part which I fill. In a commu- 
nity wholly occupied with its business and interests, and 
which, notwithstanding, governs itself, how is liberty 



94 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

maintained ? how are generous ideas maintained and 
developed ? how is right respected by all, virtue es- 
teemed, services rewarded ? Thanks to the press, an 
invention still more admirable than steam and electricity. 
We journalists, we are the echo of society — a formidable 
echo, a sounding trumpet, which swells every report, 
spreads it to the ends of the land, and goes to awaken the 
most torpid conscience. Good or evil, everything serves 
us — the good to make all hearts beat with joy and emu- 
lation, the evil to arouse them to indignation and disgust. 
Yesterday you accomplished a heroic act. In Russia or 
Spain, who would have known it ? — A few friends, a 
few neighbors, a city. Here, thanks to us, thirty-one 
milHon men are about to repeat the name of Dr. Smith ; 
three million youth will envy your courage and resolve 
to imitate it. This is the work of these pamphleteers for 
whom you seem to have little esteem. To-day there is a 
scandal made, a fault committed by a magistrate. The 
law has condemned the man, the press condemns the 
crime, and makes it hated and detested by the whole 
nation. The greater the fall, the stronger the lesson. 
Our harshness will grieve a family and wound a few 
timid souls ; it will save from a like weakness millions of 
men who would be emboldened by impunity. Doubtless, 
our rigor will cost us mortal enmity. What does it mat- 
ter? Shall we weigh our duty against our interest? 
Doctor, be less severe on us. How many statesmen 
would be able to fill the qualities demanded by the voca- 
tion of journalists? how many would resolutely accept 
our dangers and obscurity ?" 

" Bravo, Truth !" cried Humbug ; " you talk like a 
book, my good friend, and like a book which tells the 
truth : rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cycno^^ 



PRIVATE LIFE SHOULD BE IMMURED. 95 

" There is such a thing as hidden ambition," returned 
I, furious both against Truth and myself (the words of 
the sophist had shaken me). " Some men believe them- 
selves virtuous in making a show of severity, who, at the 
bottom, without knowing it, are the dupes of their own 
interest, and pursue after fortune." 

" Fortune," said Humbug, " is not made for journalists. 
Doctor, my friend, the world is a stage, on which three 
sorts of persons figure — spectators, actors, and authors. 
The spectators are you. Green, Rose, all those good peo- 
ple who have neither vices nor virtues, and live in the 
shade of their own vine and fig-tree. The actors are a 
jealous set, resembling all troupes of comedians. The 
ambitious man, the fine talker, the miser, the poltroon, 
the tyrant, the valet, play their part in the farce, to the 
great pleasure of the public, who often applaud, some- 
times hiss, and always pay them. Their chief singers 
must have fine clothes, palaces, gold, plenty of gold. 
They know the whim of the crowd and take advantage 
of it. As to the authors — as to the poet who has created 
the saying of the day, written the air in vogue, inspired 
the tirade, they throw him a crust of bread and pass him 
by in disdain. What is the idea to the shrewd ? Nothing 
but a cockade : the thing is to use it at the right time. 
Cry for twenty years that liberty is the salvation of peo- 
ples — you are nothing but an echo, odious to those who 
rule, importunate to those who serve. Let the day come 
when the wearied people wishes to shake off the burden 
which crushes it — the first rash man who dares inscribe 
on a banner the motto which you have repeated twenty 
years will be the chosen of the crowd — honor, money, 
power, all will be his. An hour will make the fortune 
of this first actor ; but he will not find contempt enough 



96 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

for the obscure journalist, who, by twenty years of suf- 
ferings and dangers, had paved the way for his triumph. 
The people will judge like the actor. Do you wish a 
moral to my tale ? Paris is about to choose a mayor ; be 
sure that every one else will be thought of except the only 
man who would do honor to the office ; namely. Truth. 
On the day that he perishes, if I am not there, there 
will not be two lines of eulogy in his own journal. This 
is the way that civic virtue is recompensed in America ! 
Yet we are the first people on earth. Ab uno disce 
omnes. Judge now of our ambition !" 

" Humbug, ray friend," said Truth, " do you count as 
nothing the honor of being loved and praised by you ?" 

" The door opened, and, for the second time, a Aveasel's 
paw was seen extended, which could belong only to Mr. 
Fox. It was he, more smiling than ever. 

" Mr. Truth," said he, in his softest voice, " will you 
have the kindness to announce, in your excellent paper, 
that the Honorable Mr. Little has just given ten thou- 
sand dollars to the Child's Hospital, five thousand dollars 
to the poor of the city, and five thousand dollars to the 
city library ?" 

"The Mexican loan is doing Avell," said Humbug. 
"Little is a pious Jew, who pays his tenth to the 
Lord." 

" The Mexican loan is abandoned," replied Fox. " Mr. 
Little has satisfied himself that the guarantees offered by 
the Mexican government are not secure." 

"Whence comes this suspicious generosity?" asked 
Humbug. " There is some fearful speculation under this. 
Here are twenty thousand dollars which will cost us 
dear." 

" Always suspicious," interrupted I ; " and why ?" 



PRIVATE LIFE SHOULD BE IMMUKED. 97 

"Because t am an old journalist," replied Humbug. 
" I believe in the virtue of bankers as in the simplicity 
of Quakers." 

"We will convert you, old sinner," returned Fox, 
lauorhino^. 

" Great news on 'Change ! " said Eugene Rose, enter- 
ing. 

"The Mexican loan is withdrawn," answered Hum- 
bug ; " we know it." 

" But you do not know that the mayor has resigned, 
and that Mr. Little is a candidate for his place." 

" Really," said Fox, " it is impossible. Mr. Little has 
not said a word to me about it ; I doubt even whether, 
with his mnJtiplicity of business, he could accept this 
important office." 

" Excellent Fox !" exclaimed Humbug ; "he is as 
innocent as a lamb I You will see, honest attorney, that 
Mr. Little will make up his mind to this great sacrifice." 

" But we are modest people," said Truth ; " and, on 
our part, will not impose on him so heavy a burden ; we 
will oppose his election." 

" And why ?" exclaimed Fox. 

"That," said Humbug, "is the secret of the play; you 
are not to ask it." 

" So, then," resumed Fox, " we always find you against 
us, virtuous Puritans, proud and unsociable race; but, 
damn me, if I do not some day burn out your nest, you 
useless hornets, who know how to do nothing but tire 
our ears with your detestable buzzing." 

" Fox, my friend," said Humbug, " do not put my 
patience and hands to the test, or I shall throw you out 
of the window." 

Fox did not await a threat, the execution of which 

5 



98 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

was certain. For iny part, I left, moved and troubled 
by all I had heard. Reason and education told me that 
the press is a weapon aimed at power and society ; 
twenty times the wisest ministers had inoculated me 
with this precious truth. But, on the other hand, I was 
struck with what was great and generous in the conduct 
of Truth, brave and decided in the character of Humbug. 
To take in hand the cause of honest men against all the 
knaves with which the world is overflowing, to be daily 
on the chase, and unrelaxingly to pursue theft, injustice, 
and falsehood, is something, notwithstanding. A people 
that numbers such men is not a common people. 

" Bah !" said I to myself, driving away vain scruples, 
"this is an exception. The wisest course „w^ould be to 
suppress the journals. It is said that this is to suppress 
the remedy and not tlie disease ; but, when the disease 
is without remedy, we resign ourselves to it, and if we 
die, at least die without complaining. It is a great 
advantage — to the physicians." 

I had arrived thus far in my reflections, when a voice 
called me from the middle of the street — the voice of 
Susan. She was approaching in a two-wheeled gig, 
driven by Martha. The horse Avas sure-footed, and 
Martha w^as a prudent woman, who used the rein more 
freely than the whip ; but, at the corner of the rue 
Taitbout and rue Helder — I am wa-ong — at the corner 
of Seventh and Eighth Avenues, there w^as a terrible 
little paving-stone, laid down, I suppose, by some inter- 
ested veterinary ; for, during ten years, a day had not 
passed that horses had not stumbled on it. Martha's 
courser was predestined ; on nearing me, the poor ani- 
mal suddenly fell on his knees ; Martha was flung over 
the horse's head, while Susan fell into my arms, throw- 



PKIVATE LIFE SHOULD BE IMMURED. 99 

ing me down by the shock, and rolled on the ground 
with me 

I rose, furious, and covered with dust ; Susan's face 
was scratched ; Martha was bleeding, 

" Are you hurt, Martha ?" I exclaimed. 

" No, sir ; it is nothing," said she ; " the right hand of 
the Eternal sustained me ; nothing was hit but the end 
of my nose." 

We both busied ourselves with ungirding and raising 
th6 horse. 

When the animal w^as harnessed, " Good heavens !" I 
exclaimed, "it is a shame that the city government 
should suffer for ten years such a break-neck trap at my 
door, in the most frequented street of the city." And I 
re-entered the newspaper office in a rage. 

"Doctor, what is the matter?" said Humbug, still 
laughing. " Have you already commenced the electoral 
struggle with Fox ? Judging from your coat, you have 
not had the best of it." 

" The matter is," said I, " that it is abominable that a 
pavement should have been left for ten years in such a 
condition ; that my horse has just fallen ; that my daugh- 
ter's face is hurt; that my cook has been nearly killed. I 
am in a rage ; I wish to make complaint ; I demand 
justice. We are in Paris in America, I shall obtain it. 
Publicity will bring every one on my side. Give me a 
pen and ink ; I wish to address a severe letter to you, in 
which I shall treat the admiuistration as it deserves." 

" Here is what you desire," said Humbug ; " and here 
besides is a dollar." 

" A doUar ! For what ?" 

" We always pay a dollar to whoever brings us an 
item. Don't be nice, doctor ; keep it, and frame it, with 



100 PAKI8 IN AMERICA. 

the date. It will remind you that the press is the voice 
of all, and that you comprehended this great truth on 
the day that you yourself suffered." 

" Humbug," said I, " these words, which you throw 
to the winds with your usual lightness, have more scope 
than you think ; I will not forget them. On reading my 
morning's paper, each complaint will recall to me a suf- 
fering which to-morrow, perhaps, will be mine, an evil 
which I can succor or prevent by joining in the public 
outcry." 

*' Bravo, doctor; you are a great philosopher. When 
your eyes are opened, you cry, Et lux facta est. No 
matter ; you will ere long perceive a no less important 
truth ; namely, that in the end the liberty of the press is 
of little profit to any but honest men. This will suffice 
to teach us what are its enemies." 



AN AMEKIOAN NOMINATION. 101 



CHAPTER XII. 

A NOMINATION IN AMERICA. 

All these discussions had disturbed me. Of course, I 
had not the weakness to deny the political faith which 
the masters of niy infancy had given me — I abhor rene- 
gades. When one is born in error, if conscience com- 
mands him to depart from it, honor commands him to re- 
main in it ; and a Frenchman always listens to honor. I 
would have been hewn in pieces rather than acknowledge 
publicly that these Yankees were not w^rong. But in 
my soul I felt that I had lost my first innocence ; I had 
made use of the press, and I had no longer the strength 
to blush at it. Dissatisfied with myself, I slept a restless 
sleep ; when I awakened, it was still dark. The soph- 
isms of Truth and Humbug had entered into my spirit 
like arrows into the flesh. I was seeking in my bed 
replies which I hardly found, when all at once, in the 
midst of the obscurity and silence, I heard a voice in the 
street calling me. It was my daughter's voice ; a father 
cannot be mistaken. 

To throw on my dressing gown and run to the win- 
dow was the work of an instant. I leaned forward to 
look into the darkness, when my head encountered some 
strange obstacle which gave way. Directly a splendid 
sun dazzled my eyes ; joyful shouts greeted my appear- 
ance. The street was filled with people, an immense 
placard covered the whole house, and my head wedged 
in a gigantic O, presented a ridiculous spectacle to the 



102 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

passers. " Papa, stay there," cried Susan, dancing up 
and down and clapping her hands, " all Paris will read 
the placard." — " Green for ever P^ repeated the Yan- 
kees, as they ran. " A very good trick," added they, 
laughing and showing their great teeth. 

I dressed myself hastily and went dow^n into the 
street ; Paris was no longer but an immense placard ; 
candidates of all colors, blue, red, white, yellow, green 
and pink, displayed on the walls their vices and virtues. 
My house was devoted to green. The name of Green 
was lengthened out in capitals three feet high ; opposite 
me, the printing office had raised to the sky an immense 
placard, on which was read ; 

CITIZENS 

OF THE FIRST CITY OF THE WOELD. 
No hankers I 
No laioyers! 
No tricksters ! 

ELECT THE SON OF HIS WORKS. 
The generous patriot ! 
The adventurous merchant ! 
The good father ! 
The child of Paris ! 

ELECT THE HONEST AND VIRTUOUS GREEN ! 

This democratic farce amused Susan; Alfred Rose 
was by her side with the venerable apothecary and his 
other eight sons. Henry danced for joy like a child 
enchanted by the uproar. For my part, I have little 



A'N' AMERICAN NOMINATION. 103 

taste for popular orgies, they may be summed up in one 
sentence — a great noise for nothing. 

" Neighbor," said the druggist, " here is our captain 
going to battle ; I hope you will lend a helping hand ; 
the cabal is powerful, and we shall overcome it only by 
dint of words and action." 

" My dear Mr. Rose," answered I, " with your per- 
mission, I shall stay at home. In all this I have no 
interest. I am a nobleman with numerous stewards to 
manage my affairs, whom I pay without even having the 
trouble of choosing them ; what happens among my men 
does not concern me. What is a mayor of Paris ? A 
gentleman in an embroidered coat who marries old 
maids and inconsolable widows, and who twice a year 
goes in state to call on the prefect and dine at the Hotel 
de Ville. These are great honors, they cannot be too 
dearly bought ; but in what do they concern me — me a 
simple citizen, that has no other privilege than that of 
paying expenses which I do not vote ? I do not know 
who a mayor represents, but assuredly it is not those 
under his administration. Choose whom you like ; I am 
a physician and never trouble myself about anything." 

For his sole answer, Mr. Rose took my hand and felt 
my pulse. 

" Terrible doctor," said he, " you make me shudder 
with your everlasting jests ; I should think your brain 
disordered. The citizen of a free country, do you 
need to be told that our most important interests are 
to-day at stake ? Is not the mayor the first person- 
age of the city, the representative of our ideas and 
desires ? Police, markets, streets, schools — does not the 
mayor, assisted by our councilmen, regulate everything 
by the sovereign authority conferred upon him by our 



104: PARIS IN AMERICA. 

vote ? If he have superiors in the State, has he any in 
the city ? Does he receive orders from any one ? Is he 
not our right hand, our organ, our minister ; is it not to 
us alone that he is answerable for his actions and expen- 
diture ? Yet you wish that such an election should find 
us indifferent ? For my part, I trouble myself little 
enough about vrhat is done at Washington by the fine 
talkers of the West and South ; but Paris is my property, 
my fact, the tomb of my father, the cradle of my child- 
ren. I love everything in Paris, even to its blots and 
excrescences. I love its old streets where I have played 
in my childhood ; I love its new avenues, broad arteries 
of civilization ; I love its Gothic churches, which tell me 
of the past ; I love its railroads and schools, which tell 
me of the future. For me, forty generations have 
enriched this corner of the globe ; here is a heritage 
which I have received from my fathers, and which I wish 
to transmit to my children after having embellished it. 
I do not mean that a stone or an institution of my be- 
loved city, of my true country, shall be touched without 
my consent. I am a Parisian, Paris is mine !" 

" Rose, my friend !" exclaimed I, " you are the Cicero 
of apothecaries; but eloquence is privileged to say the 
opposite of truth. You do not surely, speak in earnest 
of entrusting to one of ourselves, to a simple citizen, the 
police of such a pandemonium. This needs a firm and 
independent hand which rules us despite ourselves." 

'* Papa," said Susan, " why do you tease good Mr. 
Rose ? You know very well that it is the mayor who 
chooses the policemen ; you yourself secured the appoint- 
ment of the one that guards our street." 

" Perhaps also," added I with an air of pity, " your 
city taxes are voted by those who pay them ?" 



AN AMEKICAN NOMINATION. 105 

" Doubtless," said Rose, " who has the right to vote 
for an expense if not he who bears it ?" 

" You will have a pretty budget ! This is a fine way 
of calling in millions ! And when you open new streets, 
you consult the inhabitants perhaps, in order to conjure 
up against you the selfishness of private interests ?" 

" Whom should we consult ?" asked the innocent apo- 
thecary ; " these streets are made for us, I presume, and 
our private interests summed up are the general in- 
terest." 

" Perfect ! perfect !" exclaimed I, laughing ; " they 
have all sucked the milk of the same ass ! Good God ! 
that it should be necessary to hammer into these narrow 
brains the great ideas of civilization ! Could they see 
the miracles of centralization, they would comprehend at 
length that our business is never better done than when 
it is committed, without our consent, to the hands of 
those who have no interest in it ! And the schools," 
added I, " perhaps it is also the fathers of famihes who 
vote the tax and fix the amount of expenditure ? I 
would like to see the total." 

" The expense of the schools," said Alfred, eager to 
make a display of his wit ; "is voted by the whole 
people ; education is the common debt ; each one glories 
in contributing to it. The day before yesterday, the tax 
was fixed for 1862 ; it is two dollars per head for every 
inhabitant, without counting what is given by the State." 

" Sixteen million francs voted by the sixteen hundred 
thousand inhabitants of Paris for the schools of this 
great city," exclaimed I ; " such a thing never has been, 
and never will be seen ; it is impossible." 

" Papa," returned Susan, sharply, " since Alfred says 
it, it is true." 

5* 



106 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

" Come, my dear friends,'' said I in my turn, " we 
must howl with the wolves. If our affairs be really our 
affiiirs ; if Paris be ours and not the State's ; if we vote 
and spend our money ourselves, all things incredible, 
enormous, and contrary to experience and, good sense, I 
yield to the common madness ! A Parisian who is not a 
stranger to Paris, a Parisian who has a voice in the 
municipal chapter, a Parisian who speaks and is listened 
to, is a phcenix which is seen only in America. Let us 
go vote. Hurrah for Green, mayor of Paris — in Mas- 
sachusetts !" 

" Hurrah for Green !" cried all the company, directing 
their steps towards the shop of the grocer. 

" Papa," said Susan, *' kiss me before you go. You 
know," added she in a whisper, " that your name is on 
the list." 

" What list, my child ?" 

" The list of municipal officers. The Nominating 
Committee proposes you in the Paris Telegraphy as 
inspector of streets and roads, by the side of Mr. Hum- 
bug, whom they wish to make justice of the peace. 
Look, papa !" and Miss drew the paper from her apron 
pocket. What a country, where a girl in love reads the 
newspapers and is interested in elections ! 

I took the Paris Telegraph; my name, printed in 
large characters, and accompanied with a fitting eulogy, 
figured at the head of the list. It had a strange effect on 
me. To criticise the ruling power, do as it may, is to 
me a matter of course ; I am a Parisian. To blame and 
make songs on our masters is the only part of liberty 
which the great monarch himself was not able to wrest 
from us ; it is the vengeance and consolation of our poli- 
tical leisure. But to administer and command, to act 



AN AMERICAN NOMINATION. 107 

instead of complaining, to emerge from the opposition to 
encounter it before one's self and to reduce it to silence 
by dint of zeal and success, was to me an unknown and 
charming prospect — already ambition glided into my 
heart. I reflected that on the night before I had been 
harsh with Humbug (a journal is an influence !) and that 
perhaps I had spoken too rudely to Rose and his child- 
ren — there were ten voters ! I hastily embraced Susan, 
therefore, and running after the apothecary, entered into 
a confidential conversation with him on some admirable 
pills of my invention — pills destined to revolutionize prac- 
tice no less than to make the fortune of the physician 
who had invented them, and the druggist who should 
sell them. A concentrated extract of camomile is a 
heroic remedy which cures in a week the incurable 
and painful malady of men of intellect — dyspepsia. I 
had been keeping the first fruits of this marvelous dis- 
covery for the Academy of Medicine ; my memoir had 
been commenced six years before ; but when ambition 
seizes us, adieu to prudence ! The academic glory ceased 
to dazzle me ; the inspection of the streets opened to 
me a political career. I was a candidate. 



108 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

CANVASSING. 

Were you ever in love, dear reader ? do you remem- 
ber, in those happy days, how light was your heart, how 
ardent your glance, how buoyant your life ? You know 
then what it is. to be a candidate. Fifty paces off, des- 
pite my bad sight, I recognized voters whom I had never 
seen ; I found stored away in my brain the history of a 
host of people with whom I had never spoken ; and not 
only their history, but that of their wives, children, 
fatliers, grandfathers and distant cousins. Right and 
left, I flung^promises and shakes of the hand. Familiar 
with the small and modest with the great, I would redress 
all the wrongs and repave all the streets. Cicero, im- 
ploring the consulsliip, was surely neither more eloquent, 
nor generous, nor affable than I. 

Green joined our train ; he was, believe me, a poor 
enough candidate. The Committee that had put him 
forward had been unfortunate; without going out of 
their street, they might have easily made a much better 
choice. A grocer does not receive that high social edu- 
cation which permits him to play with men and things. 
No flattery to the crowd, none of those promises which 
remain at the bottom of the ballot-box, none of those 
pleasing falsehoods which are the necessary fireworks of 
all elections. Green was cold and timorous as a mer- 
chant transacting business and weighing every pledge. 



CANVASSING. 109 

When he had shaken hands with a voter and said to him, 
" jT will do my hest^^'' or " It is a difficult position^'' or 
" Vote for 3Ir. Little if you thinJc Imn more capable^'* 
it seemed to him that he had done his part. To the 
Idndly reproaches which I addressed to him, he replied, 
in a frigid tone, " My conscience forbids me to do more ; 
I cannot promise more than I shall fulfill." Conscience 
in a candidate ! it was a grocer's scruple. When a man 
is seeking to make his fortune, he draws a double bolt on 
his conscience the day before election, and does not 
always remember to withdraw it on the morrow. In 
France, every one knov.'s this. 

I should have died of ennui in this electoral procession, 
if the enormous, merry Humbug, had not accompanied 
us. Always on the alert, always ready with repartee, his 
trace was marked by the roars of laughter which he left 
after him. The welcome which he received was not 
always gracious ; in his hatreds, as in his friendships, the 
Saxon carries a rude frankness ; American salt is not 
Attic salt. But Humbug was an admirable tennis player ; 
there was not a jest that he did not receive and send 
back in first-rate style. Once hit by him, the attack was 
scarcely repeated. 

" Green a candidate ! it is a shame," said a stock- 
broker, with pale face and distorted features. " Imagine 
the grocer in the city council ! When the bell rings, he 
will answer, ''Look sharp there! make yourself useful.'' 
Let him go to h — , he and all his crew." 

" To h— ?" said Humbug. " What shall we tell your 
father, the bankrupt — that you have had three failures 
and are expecting the fourth ?" 

" Green a candidate I" repeated a dry-goods' clerk, a 
dandy in varnished boots, who cleft the air at every 



110 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

word with his harmless whip; "Green, a shopkeeper, 
who doesn't know a horse from a donkey." 

" Don't be afraid, my boy," said Humbug ; " he would 
know you among a thousand." 

" A fine answer, and worthy of a man who lives on his 
wits." 

*' If you had no other capital to live on, my boy, you 
would be thinner than I am," replied Humbug, continu- 
ing his route amidst the laughter of the crowd. 

We entered the Union Hotel ; the proprietor had been 
pointed out to us as one of the most influential voters of 
the city. But if the honest man held the reins in the 
household, it was his wife that guided them. At Green's 
first word, the irascible matron cut him short. 

" Dowm with politics !" said she. 

"Down with hotels!" answered Green, making the 
lady a profound bow. 

" Joseph !" exclaimed the imperious Juno, " your 
wife is insulted, you are outraged, and you stand there 
like a stick. Are you so chicken-hearted ?" 

At this terrible voice, Joseph stopped short, opening 
his eyes wide. I believe that in the street the honest 
hotel-keeper v/ould have gladly shaken hands with us ; his 
broad face, hanging lip and big belly did not indicate a 
thunder-clap ; but, under the eye of his wife, he deemed 
it prudent to fly in a rage. To carry the war outside 
was the means of keeping peace at home. 

" Let this fine candidate come on," cried he, in a 
,coarse voice which he vainly strove to render surly; " I 
have a halter ready to hang him." 

" Many thanks, my good friend," said Humbug, in an 
afiectedly soft voice, " we have scruples about depriving 
you of a family piece of furniture." 



I 



CANVASSING. Ill 

Laughing heartily, we were about to flee the cave of 
Polyphemus, when behold ! the retreat was cut off. On 
the threshold of the door, the lady, erect as a sentinel 
under arms, stopped Humbug, and, trembhng with 
anger, said : 

" Do you know who I am ?" 

" Who does not know and admire you ?" returned 
he, bridling up with a rakish air ; *' you are a charm- 
ing chUd that has not yet reached the age of discre- 
tion." 

Upon this, he bowed, leaving the worthy matron more 
mute and confounded than Lot's wife on her trans- 
formation. 

These were merely skirmishes ; there were public 
meetings where the claims of the candidates were dis- 
cussed; there the battle was waged and the victory 
decided. The moment had come for us to separate ; it 
was necessary that each one should show himself in these. 
The Lyceum was assigned to me. I entered the im- 
mense hall, where a restless crowd w^as waving to and 
fro. I was recognized and called for, all eyes were 
fixed on me; I was seized wdth a sudden panic, and 
would have gladly renounced this fatal nomination, 
which delivered me over to the public. Alas ! it was 
too late. 

In front of me, a man, mounted on a stage, was speak- 
ing and gesticulating with the greatest eagerness ; the 
crowd listened in silence, then suddenly burst into ter- 
rible huzzas and groans — the way they applaud and hiss 
among the Saxons. This popular orator, who aroused at 
his will the passions of the crowd, was the lawyer of 
Banker Little — it was our enemy, Fox. 

While execrating the rascal, I was forced to recognize 



112 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

in him a certain talent which he abused. By turns seri- 
ous and mocking, he had a way of praising his adversaries 
so as to render them ridiculous, and of jesting on his 
candidates so as to raise them in all eyes. He ended by 
a rapid enumeration of the wealth which the banker 
would diffuse in America. Little became a Jupiter, fall- 
ing in showers of gold into the lap of a new Danag. At 
the voice of the lawyer, railroads, canals and steamboats 
ranged around the banker in an electoral cortege, while, 
with a disdainful gesture, the haranguer showed us the 
grocer drowned in his molasses, or swallowed up in the 
account of his herrings and sardines. 

"Friends of peace!" exclaimed he, in closing, "will 
you choose for the head of the city this manufacturer of 
lucifer matches, whose merchandise is at the bottom of 
every conflagration ? Friends of liberty ! will you elect 
this dealer in salt cod, who feeds the slaves of the South, 
and who would become bankrupt to-morrow if his cus- 
tomers, freed by our money, should leave his corrupt 
merchandise on his hands ? No, never will you descend 
to this shame. For my part, a pure-blooded Yankee, a 
friend of the country, proud of all our glories, rather than 
give my vote to this man, I would cast it for" — he 
paused, Avinking his eye and lowering his voice — "for 
him whom, in their universal pity, our women call s^poor 
fallen angel — I will not utter his name." 

A thunder of applause greeted the orator. He de- 
scended from the platform, showered with compliments 
a,nd promises. In every assembly there is always a flock 
of simpletons that bleat after the last speaker. His suc- 
cess was not sufiicient for the traitor ; he came straight 
to me, extended me a hand which I dared not refuse, 
and said, in a voice which resounded through the hall; 



CANVASSING. 113 

" Dr. Smith, it is your turn now ; fair play for all is the 
motto of a Yankee." 

I rose in a cold sweat. The cry rung from every part 
of the hall, " Hear ! hear V The noise, the eyes fixed 
on me, the silence which ensued, all turned my brain ; a 
red cloud ]3assed before my eyes, my voice stuck in my 
throat, and my whole body shook from the throbbing of 
my heart. What would I not have given to have pur- 
chased the loquacity of this wretch ! I had nobler ideas 
than his — a more sincere patriotism ; but the lawyer 
had the habit, the trade ; and I, the citizen of a free 
coimtry, had not even been taught to speak. I was van- 
quished, and vanquished without a struggle. 

I was about to swoon with anger and shame, when 
suddenly my son Henry, who had seen me turn pale, 
leaped on the platform and made a sign that he wished 
to speak. His body upright, head erect, feet square, and 
left hand buried in his buttoned coat, he gracefully ^vaved 
his right hand, and waited till the tumult should sub- 
side. 

" His son ! his son !" the murmur ran on all sides. 
^''Hear! hear P^ Every one looked at the child with 
curiosity. There was a profound silence; one might 
have heard a fly buzz. 

" Citizens and friends," said he, in a clear and piercing 
voice, " I do not come to fight the terrible Goliath of 
Banker Little. Not that I lack stones : the Philistine 
has thrown only too many into our garden ; but I have 
nothing of David but his youth. I have not strength to 
cope with this too practised adversary ; all that I shall 
attempt is to defend my father and my party ; and I am 
sure that there is not one among you, noble-hearted men, 
but will say, ' This young man is right.' " 



114 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

"Hear! hear I" the shouts rung on all sides; "he 
speaks M'ell." 

" The honorable lawyer," continued my son, emphasiz- 
ing the first word, " does not like the grocery business. 
This surprises me. He spends so much for coarse salt 
that we would be glad to have his custom. If he will 
give it us, we will supply him, into the bargain, with the 
sugar which he lacks. Sugar allays the bile ; without it, 
a man looks on things with a jaundiced eye, and is unjust 
to his friends and companions in arms." 

I know not where my son found this low cast of elo- 
quence, but it suited the taste of the ignorant crowd : 
they laughed, they applauded, the women waved their 
handkerchiefs. Henry replied by a smile ; the assembly 
was his. 

" I shall not speak ill of the bankers," continued my 
orator of sixteen. " Bankers are Hke dentists — we must 
not make enemies of them ; who knows whether we may 
not need them to-morrow ? But is it into their hands 
that we are to commit the interests of the city ? I re- 
member that my grandmother, a sainted woman of Con- 
necticut, a grand-daughter of our pilgrim fathers, often 
used to repeat to me, that she had heard her virtuous 
sires say that the banker sustains the State as the cord 
sustains the thief — by strangling it." 

" Three groans for the bankers !" cried a shrill voice — 
the voice of some stray debtor in the crowd. The cry 
was echoed; the hall shook with these howls, which 
tickled my paternal ear as if they had been a sonata of 
Beethoven. 

" My grandmother," continued the chUd, excited by 
these huzzas, " used to set us riddles to amuse us winter 
evenings in the chimney corner. ' If a banker, a lawyer. 



CANVASSING. 115 

and a tailor be put into the same bag,' said she, ' and one 
drawn at random, which will surely come out ?' " 

"A thief!" repeated the audience, delighted to recog- 
nize a memory of childhood. 

Henry approached the edge of the platform, laid his 
finger on his lip, and said, in a low tone : 

" That is the word which grandmother used, but to-day 
we say, ' A successful millionaire.' " 

" Indeed," added he, " I have no spite against fortune ; 
I hope to make my way as well as others." 

" And you will go far, my little giant," cried a coarse 
voice, which stirred the assembly. 

" Show me," added my son, animated by this suffrage, 
" show me a fortune honorably acquired ; ships sent to 
the East Indies, Newfoundland, and the Moluccas. I will 
greet in the person of Green twenty years of labor, calcu- 
lation and economy ; but these chance riches, these mil- 
lions gained at play in a day, do not tell me of them ; 
they are the property of others passed into the pocket of 
a more adroit trickster. A fortune without labor is a for- 
tune without honor ! {Hear^ hear !) 

" And besides, my dear fellow citizens, is it fortune 
that you reward ? Is it not courage and devotion ? 
Was not Green the noble captain who entered a burning 
house to save your wife or daughter, perhaps ? Have 
you not all adopted the child that my father snatched 
yesterday from the flames ? Oh ye, our conscience, ye 
stars of our souls, mothers, wives, daughters, sisters! 
speak, ladies ! for whom are we to vote ? {Heai\ hear !) 

" I love brave men, who are not afraid to enter the 
flames," continued my young Gracchus, " I have no 
taste for those who live in them eternally. Let the 
nameless gentleman of whom my opponent speaks have 



116 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

all the sympathies of our adversaries, I am not surprised 
at it. It is natural that Mr. Fox should choose his repre- 
sentative from his family or friends. We, who have less 
illustrious connections — what we wish at the head of our 
affairs is an honest man. This man's name we have not 
to hide : it is the son of his works, it is the child of the 
city, it is Green !" 

" Hurrah- for Green ! hurrah for Smith !" cried all 
the crowd, carried away by emotion. The victory was 
ours. 

In the midst of this uproar, Henry sought my eye. He 
was about to escape from his rising glory when a robust 
Kentucky hunter, one of those giants who boast of being 
half horse, half alligator, carried off my son by force in 
his arms, and made the round of the hall. The thunder 
of applause that ensued well nigh brought down the 
walls. All the men shook the young prodigy by the 
hand, all the women embraced him. I wished to cry, " I 
am his father!" but a second time fear choked my words, 
and I sighed, saying in a whisper, " Alas, that I am not 
my son !" 



VANITAS VANITATUM. 117 



CHAPTER XIV. 

VANITAS YANITATUM. 

When the crowd had dispersed, bearing afar the 
glory and name of the future Webster, I embraced the 
orator at leisure, and we set out for home together. 
Ashamed of the mute part to which my timidity had 
condemned me, I could not resist the wish to tease the 
Cicero in embryo. 

" Come, you dog," said I, " where did you get this 
facility of chattering, and this assurance which is dis- 
turbed at nothing ? To improvise, declaim, wed the 
gesture to the word — where has this art, lost since the 
ancients, been taught you ? " 

"At school," replied Henry. "You must know, papa 
— you, who have so many times made me recite my 
Enfield.* Did I stand erect ? Did I not carry my arm 
above my head ? Are you satisfied with me ?" 

" And do all your comrades chatter Uke yourself?" 

" Of course, papa. A nation of mutes would be fine 
citizens ! To speak and gesticulate is as necessary to us 
as to read and write. There is not one among us that 
will not be something in society, the county, the state. 

* " Enfield's Speaker" is a collection of the finest pieces of poetry 
and eloquence in the English language, and is used in American 
schools to teach children to recite by heart, or rather to declaim. 
The work is preceded by a treatise on mimicry and gesture, with 
plates, giving the position of the body, head, and hands, for each 
passion to be expressed. 



118 PAUIS IN AMEKICA. 

Members of a meeting or an association, voters, candi- 
dates, magistrates, senators — we will all find it necessary 
to address the public ; we are, therefore, accustomed to 
it at school. To improvise is not difficult, and is very- 
amusing. It is our delight, in our play hours, to argue ; 
I have already made a hundred speeches to my future 
voters. But my forte is gesture. ' Action ! ' says 
Demosthenes, in my Enfield, * action ! action ! ' Look 
at me, papa." 

And behold ! my scamp strode up and down, declaim- 
ing some speech of Lord Chatham against the American 
war. He advanced, paused, raised his eyes to heaven, 
clasped his hands, clenched his fist, placed his hand on 
his heart, and ended by leaping on my neck with shouts 
of laughter ; while I, his father, incapable of saying a 
word or lifting a finger, stood confounded before this 
exhibition of a precocious perversity, the fruit of an 
unhealthy education. My spn was not a prodigy, he 
was only a Yankee, too skillfully trained. 

" Unhappy child," said I ; " since you are going to 
the East Lidies, of w^hat use will this histrionic art be to 
you ? It w^ould do, if you were a lawyer." 

"I shall be, some day, papa," answered Henry. "Let 
me earn ten thousand dollars there ; on my retui-n I shall 
study, and enter into partnership with an experienced 
master." 

"And then?" asked I, dismayed at this youthful 
ambition. 

" Then, papa, I shall get myself chosen representative 
for the State of Massachusetts, and afterwards senator." 

"And then?" 

" Then, papa, I shall be sent to Congress, and later, 
made United States senator." 



VAOTTAS VANITATUM. 119 

"And then?" 

" Then, papa, I shall be Secretary of State, Hke Mr. 
Seward ; or, if I cannot succeed in that, President, like 
Mr. Lincoln." 

"And then," exclaimed I, "you will doubtless take 
the place of Lucifer; for you have the ambition and 
pride of a demon!" 

" Papa," returned the child, troubled at my vivacity, 
" all my companions do the same. Our masters have 
always told us that we are the hope of the country, 
and that the republic stands in need of us. To enter the 
political career is not ambition, but a duty. The citizen 
who advances furthest in it is the one who best serves 
his country." 

" Oh, the heathen ! the heathen!" I exclamied; "behold 
us returned to the scandals of Athens and Rome ! The 
first duty of a Christian, sir, is to remain in his humility, 
to shun politics, and never to meddle with the aifairs of 
his country, unless compelled to do so by the sovereign 
power." 

" Papa, this is not what is taught us from the pulpit. 
Last Sunday, a Pope — Pius YII., I believe — was cited to 
us, who si'id — when he was only a bishop, it is true — 
''Se good Christians, and you will he good repuhlicans? 
All our liberties come from the Gospel. It is repeated 
to us without ceasing, that the morality of Christ leads 
to democracy ; that is, to fraternal equality, and respect 
of the most obscure individual. Love each other. What 
does this mean, if not that the stronger should aid the 
weaker, with his fortune, counsels, and devotion ?" 

I seized Henry's arm ; 

"Poor child, blinded by the folly of thy masters, see," 
said I, " whither the democracy is going I" 



120 PAKIS EST AMERICA. 

Before us walked, with measured steps, a man encased 
in a wooden frame. On this ambulating placard was 
written, in large characters : 

THE ltn:k. 

The Journal of the Democracy. 



CITIZENS ! 

^ BEWARE OF INTRIGUERS AND FOOLSI 

GREEN, ^ 

SMITH, !■ or the ridiculous trio unmasked. 

HUMBUG, ) 

" Give me the Lynx^'' said I to a newspaper vender. 

" Here it is, sir," said the man in a jeering tone ; " but, 
if you want to laugh, I advise you to take the Sun and 
the Tribune. There you will see the trio lashed in fine 
style." 

The Lynx was enough for me. I opened the execra- 
ble sheet. Green was keenly satirized; coarse truths 
were told of Humbug ; but I ! great God ! how was I 
treated ? What falsehood ! what abuse ! what abomma- 
tion ! 

I crumpled the wretched paper, ana was about to 
throw it into the gutter, its true place, when, at the 
threshold of my door, I met the jovial and impertinent 
smile of Humbug. 

" You are triumphing, Mr. Journalist," said I, thrust- 
ing the Lynx in his face. " Elections are your festivals ; 
they are the saturnalias of calumny I" 

" Calumny," said the fat man, shrugging his shoulders, 



VANITAS VANITATUM. 121 

"is like the small ])ox; when it comes out, we are cm-ed; 
when it strikes in, we die." 

" It is only in your democracies that such infamous 
things are j^rinted." 

"I believe it," replied the sophist, happy to seize a 
new paradox on the wing. " In the monarchies of the 
Old World, men take care not to print calumny — they 
whisper it ; it is a more perfidious and surer way. They 
do not attack men in the face, lest they might defend 
themselves ; they stab them in the back. There, intrigue 
and falsehood rule without diffusion ; and there the prmce 
is the first victim of that poison, whase exhalation he 
prevents. Siimma petit Uvor, Calumny, doctor, is the 
scourge and chastisement of despotism ; in a free coun- 
try, it is like the sting of a wasp — it is forgotten on the 
morrow." 

" Mr. Philosopher," said I, drily, " read this journal ; 
yon are in question in it." 

" Another reason for not reading it. It is always the 
same theme, with six or eight substantives, pretentious 
epithets, to vary the chorus. Have you the audacity not 
to follow the docile sheep which are drawn along by 
adroit leaders? dare you have an opinion and will of 
your own ? you are a proud visionary and an ambiti- 
ous fanatic. Do you tell the truth to your fellow 
citizens, do you seek to enlighten them on the conditions 
of liberty, to warn them against the dangers of anarchy ? 
you are an infamous aristocrat^ a servile admirer of 
perfidious Albion. In other words, to open the eyes of 
the people, is to ruin the trade of the leaders of the 
blind, and to throw out of employment honest men, who 
are far from pardoning it. Do you speak frankly and 
call by their name abuses and those who live by them ? 



122 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

you are a flatterer of the crowd and a cowardly dema- 
gogue. Ironical eulogies if your nomination be defeated, 
gross and stale abuse if it succeed — such is the eternal 
song of journals and journalists without self-respect. We 
are made in this hke street organs. It is the pleasure of 
the envious, of gossips, of good people with a false ear. 
We must be indulgent to the petty miseries of hu- 
manity." 

" Read the article," returned I, impatiently ; " we will 
see how far your placidity will go." • 

Once entered into the parlor, where happily we were 
alone, Humbug burst into laughter at the insulting dia- 
tribe, while Henry ran to learn the news. 

" Green has no cause to complain," said the fat jour- 
nalist, laughing. " From the rough manner in which he 
is treated, it is evident that his stock is rising. Mine is 
not bad. The shameless Falstarff-\ is fine ; the tipsy Sile- 
mis, who does not even lack his ass lohen the doctor is 
by, is from a mythology which does honor to the erudi- 
tion of the Avriter. All this is the telum imbelle, sine ictu, 
of a party at bay." 

" Why are these wretches not hindered from speak- 
ing ?" 

" Doctor, have you found the philosopher's stone ? 
To know in advance what people will say is a secret 
which is still sought ; the only way to avoid the scandal 
which terrifies you is to gag the whole world — a heroic 
remedy, which kills men to prevent them from leading 
an ill life. Is this the medicine which you practise V 
These scoundrels, you say, are paid to carry on an igno- 
ble trade ; they abuse liberty, they prostitute it ; I 
grant it you, but this abuse preserves us the use of our 
rights. There are Avomen who abuse the right of walk- 



VANITAS VANITATUM. 123 

ing the streets ; shall we shut np our wives in a harem? 
There are people who kill themselves by gluttony and 
drunkenness ; shall we put ourselves on the diet of San- 
cho Panza in the island of Barataria? Through fear 
of a conflagration, Avould you forbid tinder-boxes and 
matches ? Through fear of an assassin, would you take 
from us one of the first rights of a free people, the right 
to have arms ? Every liberty involves in its train a pos- 
sible abuse ; every power and every instrument does the 
same. To suppress liberty in order to prevent abuses, 
to prevent good in order to prevent evil, is to arraign 
God himself and to prove to him that he understood 
nothing at Creation." 

" If you cannot prevent calumny," exclaimed I, " pun- 
ish it ; invent fearful tortures ; chastise him who takes 
away my honor as you would him who takes away my 
life !" 

" The courts are open to you," answered Humbug ; 
"but contempt is a speedier and surer justice. Is it 
certain, moreover, that we are calumniated ? For my 
part, I do not feel hurt." 

" I do not know what you have in your veins," said I, 
snatching the paper from his hand. " Hear how an 
anonymous coward dares treat a man of my rank and 
age ; I wiU show you then how to punish such infa- 
mies." 

And in a voice trembling with rage I read as follows : 

" The doctor is a triple fool. He is a fool by birth ; thirty 
years' study have rendered him still more foolish; aud he 
lacked nothing but a grain of ambition to lose the little sense 
which labor had left him. "We all know the folly of the simple- 
ton, who sees no farther than the end of his nose. The stupid 
admirer of the past, Old Europe is his ideal ; he sees nothing to 



124: PARIS nsr ameeica. 

admire outside those decrepit societies where Roman tradition, 
where the despotism of the administration stifles all independ- 
ence and vitality. The learned Smith, the glory of twenty 
unknown academies, is one of the tremblers who would have 
cried on the day of creation, ' O God, stop ! you will disturb 
Chaos!' He is like the railroad conductors, who turn their 
backs on the train which carries them along. Ho sees nothing, 
he admires nothing but what is fleeing and disappearing in the 
shadow of the past ; he does not feel that behind him is rising a 
new sun and world — the reign of the individual, the triumph of 
liberty. Let such a mummy remain in his museum and receive 
the adoration of idlers ; we will not go thither to disturb him ; 
but what would these dim eyes, these mute lips, this powerless 
aim do in the broad daylight of public life ? What our young 
and glorious republic needs are men of our times — bankers, to 
advance civilization by daily creating new enterprises and stocks ; 
orators, to guide us towards the magnificent destinies which the 
future has in store for us. Leave the dead to bury their dead ; 
ours are hearts open to all the great social aspirations, heads 
alive to the palpitating questions of the present moment. Let 
simpletons and poltroons vote for their old fetiches ; our candi- 
dates are men whom Europe envies us ; the able and generous 
banker, Little, the eloquent and celebrated lawyer, Eox ! 

" To-morrow, the voice of the people, issuing from the bal- 
lot-box like the thunder from the cloud, will proclaim through 
all America the victory of the chosen of the Democracy. Hurrah 
for Little ! Hurrah for Fox ! " 

"Bravo," said Humbug ; " doctor, you are hit. This 
is a pretty article — nothing that attacks your character ; 
pleasantries somewhat strong, it is true, but at the same 
time spicy, spirited, ingenious and observant, to say no- 
thing of their fine style. The fellow who wrote this 
tirade is no fool." 

" Come with me to the oflace of the Lynx^'' said I, in 
my turn, " and you shall see how a triple fool boxes the 



VANITAS VANITATUM. 125 

ears of a witty fellow ; the gentleman is in need of the 
lesson." 

" Are you mad ?" cried the burly journalist, springing 
from his seat. "If any other than I heard you, you 
would be made to give bail for ten thousand dollars, or 
be sent to the j^enitentiary. Do you take us for red- 
skins? Are you a Christian? It is in the wilds of 
Arkansas that men argue with fists and revolvers; in 
Massachusetts, there is no vengeance but that of the 
law. Among a civilized peo^^le, men talk much and 
quarrel sharply ; but they do not assassinate a rival — no 
more do they fight him.'' 

" Savages !" exclaimed I, " who do not even know a 
point of honor." 

"Savage, yourself," answered Humbug, laughing. 
"Keally, doctor, the bleeding renders you ferocious. 
In what can it avail the cause of justice and reason, to 
kill men or be killed by them ? A duel profits no one 
but the physician or grave-digger." 

"What do you do, then, sir, when you are meanly 
insulted by a pamphleteer ?" 

" My dear doctor," replied the tame-spirited candi- 
date, " I repeat to myself or aloud a Turkish proverb, 
the profound wisdom of which I commend to you: — 
''He who stops to throio stones at all the dogs that hark 
at him^ will never reach the end of his journey'^ — upon 
which, I go to look after my election and yours ; do the 
same on your side, and you will soon forget the Lynx 
and its rhetoric. '•Tu ne cede malis^ sed contra aude^itior 
ito,'' Adieu." 



126 PAKIS m AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XV. 

A SOUVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTRY. 

The arrival of my wife and children softened my ill 
humor; the news was good. Alfred and Henry had 
been through all the meetings, and had received cheer- 
ings and promises everywhere ; Jenny and Susan had 
seen all their female friends. Two hundred ladies, the 
most important in the city, were wearing my photograph 
in a medallion on their neck ; the election was certain. 

The gaiety of our modest dinner completed the cure 
of my wounds. We were all of one heart and soul. My 
Jenny was more animated than at the baptism of her 
first born. I have always remarked that women are 
naturally ambitious; a young and handsome husband, 
who is nothing, will never have the art to please them 
long ; an old husband v/ill receive their sweetest smile, 
should fame or fortune crown his white hairs. When 
love is joined to this legitimate ambition, the wife then 
becomes our veritable half, in all the beauty of the word. 
We see, we think, we dream double ; it is perfect happi- 
ness on earth ; a happiness almost unknown in France, 
where the fashion interdicts to women serious tastes and 
generous passions; a happiness common in the United 
States, where pubho opinion invites women to take part 
in them. Susan was still more ardent than her mother — 
it was my blood ! She talked of nothing but my elec- 
tion. It is true, that she had made Alfred one of my 



A SOUVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTKY. 127 

principal supporters ; to occupy herself with me, was to 
occupy herself with him. 

In the evening there was a new demonstration. All 
the firemen, in full dress, and each carrying a torch in 
his hand, defiled under our windows, with music at their 
head. The young men of the city, dressed in uniforms 
and varied costumes, accompanied them with long poles, 
surmounted by Chinese lanterns. In the midst of the 
procession an immense banner, with a lighted transpar- 
ency, showed to the amazed crowd two species of black 
devUs, emerging from the flames, with white bundles 
in their arms. The names Green and Smith, written 
under these figures, gave a human meaning to this infer- 
nal scene, which was applauded as it passed. The woman 
and child whom we had rescued were drawn in an open 
carriage by four white horses, the whole adorned with 
lanterns and inscriptions. It was a triumphal march — a 
procession worthy the j)almy days of Eleusis. Shouts 
and cheers burst forth on every side, and sometimes also 
a few groans, which were quickly drowned by huzzas. 
The opposition was conquered and put to flight by the 
beauty of our inventions. It was difiicult for Little to 
rival our marvels. What could he parade through the 
streets ? Ruined stockholders ? A people is not allured 
by this daily spectacle. 

At ten o'clock, Jenny read the Bible to us. We left 
off at the fifth chapter of Daniel ; that is, the story of 
King Belshazzar and the avenging hand which wrote on 
the wall the death sentence, Mene^ TeJcel^ TIphars'bi. It 
was a fine opportunity for Martha to prophesy ; she did 
not miss it. Whether I would or no, she compared me 
to Nebuchadnezzar, and condemned me to remain icitli 
the wild asses and eat the grass of the f eld like an ox, if 



128 PAKIS m AMEEICA. 

evea- 1 should forget that the Most High has a sovereign 
power over men, and that he sets on the throne whom he 
pleases. The lesson seemed to me a little emphatic for a 
future street inspector ; but perhaps it is not necessary 
to be a king, to have the pride and insolence of Nebu- 
chadnezzar. Who knows whether the Assyrian clerks 
were not already more impertinent than their magnifi- 
cent sovereign ? 

I laughed at the sibyl ; nevertheless I was excited by 
this nomination, and too much excited to find sleep. On 
going to my room, I filled a pipe with excellent Virginia 
tobacco and, seating myself by the window, endeavored 
to soothe my agitated senses. 

The street was deserted ; the moon, illuminating with 
its pale Ught the mute and closed houses, added to the 
mystery and calm of the night. All was sleeping in the 
distance ; all was silent. The only sound that disturbed 
this universal silence, or rather that made itself felt, was 
the tickmg of a wooden clock at the foot of my bed. 
Lulled by this monotonous sound, and stupefied by the 
fumes of the tobacco, I gave full rein ^to my reveries, 
when suddenly the clock became animated. A grating 
of wheels and groaning of cords and pulleys announced 
that the hour was about to strike. I rose to admire this 
masterpiece of German clockmaking. On reaching it, a 
cock of painted wood, perched on the top of the clock, 
flapped his wings and uttered three shrill cries. A door 
opened abruptly below the cock, and showed me Paris, 
the Seine, and the Hotel de Yille in 1830. Lafayette, in 
a blond peruke, blue coat, and white pantaloons, was 
embracing at the same time a foot soldier, a gendarme, 
and a tricolored flag, on which was written, in letters of 
gold, Liberty and Public Order. Eleven times the 



A SOUVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTRY. 129 

clock struck, eleven times tlie brave Lafayette shook his 
head and waved his flag ; then the door closed, the Gallic 
cock flapped his wings and crowed more shrilly than 
ever, and the vision disappeared. 

This lost souvenir, this motto, long since forgotten, 
awakened the golden dreams of my childhood. How 
our hearts beat in 1830 ! Poor, ignorant beings ! We 
did not know then that liberty, like all mistresses, ruins 
and betrays those who love her. Liberty and public 
order I terrible words — the Mene^ Tekel^ ITpharsin of 
modern times I This is the enigma which, every fifteen 
years, the Sphinx of revolutions proposes to France, 
always ready to devour the OEdipus that does not divine 
it. Liberty and public order! One might style them 
two immortal enemies who, by turn, conquering and 
conquered, wage against each other an endless combat, 
of which we are the stake. One day liberty prevails — 
the sky resounds with joy and hope ; but, lo ! under the 
mask of this serene divinity, anarchy triumphs, drawing 
after it civil war, attacking all rights, menacing all inte- 
rests, making a frightened people recoil in horror. The 
next day public order is installed, sabre in hand, giving 
peace, imposing silence ; ere long breaking all barriers, 
and, by its own weight, gliding into that abyss where 
falls every power which nothing counsels or restrains. 
Whence comes this perpetual shipwreck ? Whence 
comes it that for seventy years past an honest, brave, 
ingenious people has built naught but ruins, always 
discontented, always declining ? 

How is it that in the United States, where all heads 
are turned by liberty, where no one speaks of public 
order, the internal peace is never disturbed ? In this 
turbulent democracy, in this crowd abandoned to itself, 

6* 



130 PAKIS IN A]MERICA. 

without police and without gendarmes, why are there 
neither riots nor revolutions ? America has not, like us, 
a hundred thousand functionaries ranged in battle array, 
an admirable administration, which prescribes everything, 
anticipates everything, directs everything, and regulates 
everything. It has not, in the face of this compact or- 
ganization, a docile, commanded, repressed, directed, and 
regulated people ; yet, notwithstanding, it is tranquil and 
prosperous. Liberty, guarantied in its full exercise by 
law, punished in its excess by justice — this is public 
order to the Americans. Their narrow intellect has 
never risen to that tutelary centralization which makes our 
unity and gloiy. Among this primitive people, public 
order has not been separated from liberty; it has not 
been personified ; it has not been surrounded with for- 
midable ramparts and ever-loaded cannon. No hierar- 
chic administration, no repressive police, no inviolable 
functionaries, no privileged tribunals ; nothing of that 
scholarly mechanism which, among civilized nations, 
breaks all resistance and crushes all individuality. The 
law all-powerful, the citizen master of and responsible 
for his actions, the functionary reduced to the common 
law, the administration amenable to the courts — -this is 
the whole system. It is of ridiculous simplicity. Noth- 
ing but laws and judges in this embryo government ; yet, 
notwithstanding, peace and wealth everywhere. Strange 
derision of fortune which our great politicians have not 
yet explained to us. Why has it not yet been proved to 
the Americans that they are happy contrary to all rules, 
and that they ought to envy us our revolutions ? 

With these fine reflections I fell asleep. 

I know not how long I had slept when I felt myself ab- 
ruptly shaken by a muscular hand. By my side, on my 



A. SOUVEA^K OF THE ABSENT COUNTRY. 131 

bed, was a corporal of the gendarmeiy. The sight gave 
me pleasure. A gendarme ! I was in France, I had 
regained my country ! 

" Up ! up ! M. Lefebvre," cried the corporal, with a 
Gascon accent which smelt of garlic half a league off. 

I looked closely at this amiable messenger ; his face 
was not unknown to me. This eye, this voice, this sar- 
donic laugh — it was the terrible medium, Jonathan 
Dream, my enemy. At the sight of the traitor, my joy 
changed to terror. 

" Who are you ? What do you want ?" asked I. 
" By what right do you enter by night into the dwelUng 
of a peaceable citizen ? My house is my castle." 

" Silence, citizen," returned the gendarme. " Do not 
be so unreasonable as to reason with the government 
which does not reason because it always has reason upon 
its side." 

Upon this he opened his cartridge box, and took from 
it a file of stamped paper. 

" Number one," said he. " To the Sieur Lefebvre, or 
one styling himself such. For having had the imper- 
tinence to criticise the municipal authority m a public 
sheet, with respect to paving the street, a reprimand, 
until further judgment." 

" This is extraordinary," exclaimed I. " Instead^ of 
reprimanding me, the authority had better offer me 
apologies and mend the pavement." 

" Silence, citizen," returned the gendarme. " As a 
private individual, I do not deny that the pavement is 
bad, I have just picked up two animals which had stum- 
bled on it before the door ; but as a gendarme, I declare 
your complaint as indiscreet as inopportune. If my 
colonel should say to me, ' Corporal, to-morrow it will 



132 



PAKIS IN AMEKICA. 



be dark at noon-day,' I would answer, ' Very well, colo- 
nel,' and would put the first street boy into the guard 
room who sliould take it into his head to see clearly. 
The instructions say that the pavement is good ; there- 
fore, it must be good, and none but evil-disposed persons 
come expressly through guilty malice to break their 
necks on it." 

" What !" cried I, indignantly, " have I not the right 
to criticise the authority when it does not do its duty ?" 

" On the contrary, citizen," returned the gendarme, 
" prefer youT complaint ; the French government is 
quite willing to be censured ; but it is necessary to be 
polite with it. You have not asked its permission to 
criticise it. You have been rude, my dear friend." 

" My good fellow, I respect you, but you reason like a 
cartridge box. The government is made for us, I sup- 
pose, not we for the government." 

"A colossal error, my good sir," returned the gen- 
darme, with an air of contempt which roused my indig- 
nation, " Those who obey are made for those who com- 
mand ; those who command are not made for those who 
obey." 

'" But we are France — we are the country." 

" The country, my good sir," returned the impassive 
gendarme, " is comjDOsed of marshals, generals, colonels, 
captains, lieutenants, prefects, mayors and other em- 
broidered coats that I respect; the rest is a heap of 
conscripts and tax-payers whose duty it is to pay and be 
silent " 

" Without murmuring ; is it not ? I know this song. 
Ah ! if we had justice !" 

" You would not have the administration, citizen ; 
you would be an Iroquois, like the Englishmen and 



A SOUVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTKY. 133 

other cannibals who do as they please. You would not 
have the honor to be a civilized man and a Frenchman. 

" Number two," continued he. '' To the Sieur Le- 
febvre, for having had the audacity to parade his lugu- 
brious person from door to door — a notice from the 
prefect, who deprives him of his free functions as 
member of the charitable board, until further judg- 
ment." 

" All nominations are free," exclaimed I. 

*' Doubtless," answered the gendarme, " they are free, 
but wdth the authorization of the authority^ 

" Number three. To the said Lefebvre, for having 
distributed,- or caused to be distributed, electoral ballots 
bearing his name or that of certain persons by name 
unknown, equally obscure and scandalous — a -summons 
to appear this day week before the president and judges 
composing the tribunal of correctional police, to answer 
for the offence of the distribution of unauthorized printed 
matter." 

" What ! Cannot I distribute to my voters the ballot 
bearing my name ?" 

" You can do everything, my good sir," returned the 
gendarme, " but with the authorization of the authority. 
Well, if you do not admit it, do you imagine that the 
authority will suffer idlers to commit a folly which 
would degenerate into opposition ? Would that I were 
the government ! I would lock you U23 properly, until 
further judgment. 

" Number four. To the aforesaid Lefebvre, for havmg 
joined himself publicly to a band of persons unknown, 
assembled in a so-called electoral assembly, which con- 
stitutes a club, if not a secret society — a summons to 
appear before the aforesaid tribunal, to see himself con- 



134 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

demned in virtue of Article 291 of the penal code, to 
prison, until further judgment. 

"Number five. To the said Lefebvre, for having 
incited his minor son to hold in the aforesaid club an 
incendiary speech against the honorable and discreet 
jjerson of M. Petit, the candidate of the government — a 
summons to appear before the aforesaid tribunal, as 
abettor and accomj^lice of and moreover civilly re- 
sponsible for the said offence, until further judg- 
ment." 

" What, hare I not the right to assemble my constitu- 
ents, and have they not the right to know the opinions 
of their representative ?" 

" They have all the rights, my good sir ;" answered 
the gendarme, "but always with the authorization of 
the authority. It would be a fine thing if the soldiers in 
a barrack were left to assemble together, and raise an 
outcry, without permission !" 

"But we are not in barracks." 

" A foolish question needs no answer," returned the 
gendarme ; " nevertheless, citizen, I will condescend so 
far as to enlighten your profound ignorance. Every 
Frenchman is born a soldier, and made to await the 
word of command. The more he is ruled, the better he 
is contented. Let no one disturb the obedience which 
makes his joy. If I were the government, I would hang 
all the loungers, while awaiting further judgment. 

" Number six. To the aforesaid Lefebvre, for having 
covered the walls, or suffered them to be covered, with 
unmeaning and criminal placards; item, for having 
organized, or suffered to be organized, a revolutionary 
procession, and having paved the way for an improper 
riot, which would have broken out, had it not been for 



A SOrVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTRY. 135 

the precautions and vigilance of the police, whose eye is 
always open — a summons to appear before the aforesaid 
tribunal, to see and hear himself condemned to the 
penalties j)i'escribed by the law, until further judg- 
ment." 

"Thanks, corporal," exclaimed I; "thanks, M. Gen- 
Adarmo ; I am the victim of an error. In France, doubt- 
less, I should be a great culprit ; but we are in America ; 
I am innocent. What is a crime in France is a right in 
the United States." 

" Spare me your thanks," answered the inflexible gen- 
darme, taking from his pocket something that looked like 
handcuffs. "As a private individual, I flatter myself that 
I have not an unfeeling heart, but at this moment I am 
the organ of the law." 

" Then the law is gasconade." 

" Silence, rebel ; enough talk. To hear them, they are 
all as innocent as a new-born child. Innocent or not, my 
fine fellow, I suspect you of being suspected, and through 
precaution, I shall lay hold of you." 

Saying this, he grasped my arm with such force that I 
uttered a cry of pain. The cry awakened me. Thank 
God ! I was dreaming. 

To shake off this abominable nightmare, I lighted the 
gas. Horror ! At the back of the bed I perceived the 
shadow of a menacing arm, and that cocked hat and tuft 
which make the boldest turn pale. 

Frozen, with trembling heart, I remained motionless, 
like a criminal awaiting the sentence of death. At this 
moment, the eock of the wooden clock crowed — the cock 
which puts to flight the evil spirits of the night ; I turned 
towards the wall, and — burst into a fit of laughter. The 
arm which had terrified me was my own ; the cocked hat 



136 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

was nothing but the shadow of a few disordered hairs ; 
and the terrible tuft was only the tassel of my — through 
respect for the modesty of my lady readers, I will not 
finish. 

I extinguished the light, and, filling back into my 
bed: 

" Oh, gendarme !" I exclaimed, " brave and loyal sol- 
dier, simple and generous heart, no one better than thou 
represents public order among a people that knows 
authority only in uniform, and peace only with a sword 
in hand. The terror of the mendicant and vagrant, the 
remorse of the poacher, the conscience of the innkeeper 
and wine merchant, the religion and morality of the citi- 
zen, the right hand of the mayor, the organ of the pre- 
fect, oh, gendarme, I respect and love thee! but pardon 
the temerities of my fancy ; I would have misery some 
day no longer a crime ; I Avould not have the police 
repress the good which is superabundant, in order to 
prevent the evil which is only the exception ; I would 
have liberty, restored to all citizens, banish from our laws 
offences which are not such ; I would lastly (oh, minister 
of the government, do not shrug thy shoulders) I would 
have the courts alone give the orders, and thy avenging 
mission limited to pursuing knaves and arresting villains 
legally denounced! I know, oh, corporal, how thou 
wilt smile at this American Utopia, but I bequeath it to 
the twenty-first century, as the thought which will one 
day immortalize my name. Then, I ask that, in my 
native city, in the midst of the square that will replace 
ray street and house, an imaginary bust shall be erected 
to me over a fountain without water, and that on it shall 
be engraven the following inscription • 



A SOUVENIR OF THE ABSENT COUNTRY. 187 

TO THE DREAMER, 

WHO, 

IN 1 862, 

DEMANDED THA.T THE COURTS 

ALONE 

SHOULD HAVE THE RIGHT TO ARREST CITIZENS, 

AND ONLY UPON LEGAL DENUNCIATION, 

BY THE GRATEFUL GENDARMERY, 

JULY 14, 2089. 

'* And I bequeath my last five-franc piece to the Acad- 
emy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, with the com- 
pound interest thereon for two centuries, in order that it 
may write out, in liebrew, Coptic, Sanscrit, and Syriac, 
an idea which the Frenchman, born maliyi^ has never 
comprehended, and which his language is powerless to 
express, &ub lege lihertasr 



138 PAKIS IN AMEEICA. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



THE ELECTION — THE SABBATH. 



At length the day arrived — that famous Saturday, 
April 3, which was to make a Parisian of the Chaussee 
d'Antin a member of the municipal administration of 
Paris, in Massachusetts. At seven o'clock in the morn- 
ing, in glorious weather, a hundred and twenty ballot- 
boxes were opened amidst a solemn calm. At the door 
of every poll were seen two long files of voters, who, 
with a patience and decision wholly Saxon, awaited the 
moment to exercise their sovereign right. The quarrels 
had ceased; the enemies of the night before were ex- 
changing jests and shaking hands. Each one bowed 
in advance before the decree of the majority, while 
awaiting his revenge at the end of the year. 

At noon, the ballot-boxes were emptied and the elec- 
tion proclaimed. Green received 116,735 votes against 
78,622 given to Little ; Humbug obtained 146,327 votes, 
while the unlucky Fox had but 18,124; lastly, despite 
a few ballots contested by envious scrutators, I was 
elected by 199,999 votes. Never had street-inspector 
been proclaimed by a more imposing majority. The 
effect was great in Massachusetts, greater still in Eng- 
land. As the price of cotton had just risen, the Times 
declared that the Yankees were savages, Avhose ballots 
were ruled only by bullets, and thence concluded that 
the democracy Avas ungovernable Old Pam resumed 
the theme in Parliament. He proved to the English 



THE ELECTION ^THE SABBATH. 139 

that they were the first joeople on the globe, and that, in 
default of a hereditary aristocracy, Jonathan did not 
reach to John Bull's knee — a somewhat harsh truth, 
which honest John Bull will digest with his usual mod- 
esty, while voting his largest budget. 

The amiable Truth informed me of my election. He 
greatly regretted, he said, being unable to announce this 
good news to the public ; but, the day before, he had 
sold his journal to Eugene Rose, and retired from 
politics. 

" You do well," said I. " Rest, and for a long time ; 
you are in need of it." 

" To rest is not an American word," replied he, with 
his gentle smile. " Young or old, sick or well, a Yan- 
kee works till death. It is the duty of a man and Chris- 
tian. I have followed the advice of Humbug and re- 
turned to the studies and tastes of my youth. The Con- 
gregationahst Church in Acacia street has called me to 
be its pastor, and I have accepted. To-morrow I enter 
upon my functions." 

" A journalist yesterday, a pastor to-morrow — you are 
a universal man : you change your profession like your 
coat. In six months what will you be ?" 

" What God pleases," replied the new minister. " If 
Humbug were here, he who has been by turn a planter 
in the West, a soldier in Mexico, a lawyer in Philadel- 
phia, a journahst in Paris, and who to-morrow will be a 
magistrate, he would teU you, in one of his favorite 
quotations : 

' Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.' 

You yourself, doctor, were a scholar the other day, a fire- 
man the day before yesterday, a candidate yesterday, 



140 PAKIS IN AMEEICA. 

an inspector of the streets to-day : on Monday you will 
be a physician. It seems to me that you change charac- 
ter with sufficient facihty. Herein is one of the great 
virtues of our glorious country. In Old Europe, one is 
born and dies in the skin of a comedy actor. All his life, 
he is soldier, judge, lawyer, merchant, manufacturer — 
never man. He has only the narrow ideas and prejudi- 
ces of his trade. Here the occupation matters little.; it 
is an overcoat put on and taken off, according to the oc- 
casion ; one is a man before all, and everywhere. In this 
is the root of that equality which makes our strength 
and glory. Clay was a Kentucky miller ; Douglas and 
Lincoln were Illinois farmers ; General Banks, the Boh- 
bin Boy^ was a cotton tyer. All have become men be- 
cause they have labored and suffered. He who has not 
struggled with life does not know what it is worth. 
The struggle against realities makes the education of 
the will and the wisdom of the heart. The aristocracy 
will produce delicate, sickly souls ; the empire of the 
world belongs to t\i^ parvenus . The future is ours." 

" Truth, you preach marvelously. When you are 
speaking, I feel that you are right ; but when you are 
gone, and I collect my memories, your theories appal 
me. If I had the weakness to listen to you, you would 
make me unlearn all that my masters have taught me. 
No matter, we will go to hear you to-morrrow. A sim- 
ple Christian addressing his brothers, and expounding 
the Gospel to them in every-day language, will be origi- 
nal. I have no idea of republican Christianity." 

Just as Truth quitted me, I was sought for to be in- 
stalled into my new functions. Jenny, Susan, Alfred, and 
I seated ourselves in a beautiful open carriage, with Mar- 
tha, who was anxious, doubtless, to watch over my 



THE ELECTION THE SABBATH. 14:1 

pride. Hemy sat with the coachman, and Sambo climbed 
behind the carriage. Two vigorous trotters, such as are 
seen only in America, bore us to Montmorency, the ex- 
treme limit of my jurisdiction. We were forced to stop 
more than once. Every road laborer was at his post, 
awaiting the new inspector. I assured these honest men 
of my good will, while my wife and daughter lavished 
on them their most gracious smiles. We were born to 
be princes. The only thing that annoyed me was to find 
toll-gates at intervals. I recognized here that demo- 
cratic meanness, which causes service to be paid for by 
those who profit by it, to release those to whom it is of 
no advantage. I promised myself to correct this abuse, 
unknown in old Europe, and to establish everywhere a 
triumphant equahty. Moreover, this annoyance did not 
hold out against the magnificent bouquets which the 
gatekeepers and principal roadmakers oflered to Jenny 
and Susan. The carriage was a basket ; we were buried 
in flowers. We Avere harangued like kings. Good peo- 
ple, who certainly had no knowledge of Hebrew, did not 
fail to com^Dare my Susan to the lilies of the valley. 
Jenny, blushing with pleasure, looked like a full-blown 
rose. As to Martha, she was a peony : it seemed as if 
the blood would gush from her crimson cheeks. She 
panted like an ox at the end of the furrow. Oh, woman, 
your true name is vanity ! For my part, indolently re- 
clining in the corner of my carriage, I did not suffer 
myself to be intoxicated with the fumes of this new-born 
popularity ; but in my soul and conscience, I found the 
roads admirable, and bore malice towards the wretched 
jade which the day before had stumbled on a pavement 
kept in order by such gallant roadmakers. 



142 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

On reaching Montmorency, the coachman, without 
orders, drove us straight to the Rose Hotel, the house 
of Seth, the Quaker landlord. Alfred and Susan found 
no grace with this friend of lovely youth. Instead of 
treating us as lovers, he made us pay double for a very 
bad dinner. I protested; but, to his natural avidity, 
brother Seth joined the most insupportable of the vices 
produced by civihzation — ^the rascal was an economist. 
He preached me a sermon in three heads, to demonstrate 
to me that to live well and cheaply is the calamity of 
peoples without commerce and industry, while dearness 
is the token of the most advanced civilization — popula- 
tion reducing the supply, and wealth raising the demand. 
The day would come when the last of the Rothschilds 
alone would be in a condition to pay for an egg ; this 
day would mark the apogee of universal prosperity. To 
economise time and words, at least, I paid him. Heaven 
preserve me from arguing with these fanatics, who have 
but one idea ! I know these pilgrims. France, its arsen- 
als, its marine, its armies, its glory, its rights, — they 
would yield them all to the Grand Turk, should he 
promise them in exchange freedom — of the shambles. 

It was four o'clock when our caravan resumed its way 
to Paris. To my great surprise, they were closing the 
shutters and doors of the hotel with iron bars, as if there 
had been mourning in the house. It was a strange fashion 
of celebrating the approach of Sunday ; but in this country, 
the opposite of all others, it is wise not to be astonished 
at anything. Friend Seth accompanied us to the city, 
mounted on a fat horse, which he overshadowed with 
his immense hat. By his side, on a grey mare, with 
broad neck and shoulders, trotted Martha, tall, erect, 



THE ELECTION THE SABBATH. 143 

rigid, and. majestic as a carabineer. They were a couple 
of scouts marching before us to announce to all the pass- 
ers our triumphal entry. 

At the first toll-gate, I found the pacific Quaker in a 
quarrel with the toll-gatherer. 

*' I tell you," cried the last, " that you cannot pass till 
you have paid the toll. There are two of you ; I must 
have twenty- four cents, not twelve." 

" Friend," returned the innkeeper, " thee does wrong 
to heat thy blood ; it is neither like a reasonable man 
nor a Christian. Look at thy rate of toll, and do not- 
ask me what the law does not permit thee to exact, 
otherwise thee will render thyself guilty of the crime of 
extortion." 

" Here is the rate of toll," returned the gate-keeper, 
furious ; '' read it yourself, insupportable chatterer : eight 
cents per horse, four cents per man. Is this clear to 
you ?" 

"Very clear," said the Quaker; "and I call these 
respectable persons to witness that I have paid thee thy 
twelve cents." 

" And this woman ?" said the gate-keeper, pointing to 
Martha, who trotted forward. 

"Well," returned Seth, with his imperturbable gravity, 
" this woman is not a man, her mare is not a horse ; there- 
fore, she owes thee nothing." 

Upon which he set ofi" on a gallop, leaving the toll- 
gatherer dumbfounded. 

"I hope," said I to the gate-keeper, "that you will 
institute proceedings against this impudent fellow." 

" No, Mr. Inspector," said he, " we should lose the 
suit. He is one of those cunning rascals who would 
drive a coach and foui- through our laws, without ever 



14:4: PARIS m AMERICA. 

being caught in them. He has the letter of the toll- 
rates on his side." 

" The spirit of the law condemns him," returned I. 
" His pretence is absurd." 

'• Among us, sir," replied the good man, " the law has 
no spirit. We know nothing but the text. If the judge 
should interpret the law, it is said, he would be the law- 
maker; the right and honor of the citizens would be 
no longer guarantied." 

" The ignorant beings !" I exclaimed. *' Have they 
jiot, then, been taught the alphabet of all legislation ? 
When there is a doubt in an affair between the public 
treasury and the private citizen, is not the doubt on the 
side of the treasury, which represents the general inter- 
est?" 

" Never, sir," answered the gate-keeper ; " the decision 
is always in favor of the citizen. The treasury must be 
doubly in the right to gain its suit." 

What was to be done amidst such barbarism ? I 
shrugged my shoulders, and bade the coachman drive 
home. 

On entering the city, I thought that it had been trans- 
formed in my absence. The streets and squares were 
deserted ; large chains were stretched behind us to arrest 
travel ; the windows offered a strange spectacle ; on all 
the balconies were seen boots, ranged in battle array, 
and presenting the soles to the passers, had there been 
any. On following a pair of these boots with my eye, I 
finally perceived human legs, then a body thrown back- 
wards, and lastly a cigar, whose bluish smoke mounted 
to the sky. I was at a loss to explain to myself what 
offence deserved this cruel punishment. Sambo, whom 
I questioned adroitly, informed me that it was the fash- 



THE ELECTION — THE SABBATH. 145 

ionable amusement. Every Saturday evening the Yan- 
kee endeavors to give himself a fit of apoplexy, in which 
he sometimes succeeds. How much wiser are we French- 
men, who never expose ourselves in our play-houses to 
anything more than the beginning of asphyxia 

Once at home, I had a desire to finish this ha2:)py day 
gaily, and entreated Susan and Henry to sing me my 
favorite air, Ldj ci darem la mano^ from Don Juan. 
Susan looked at me, and turned pale. 

" What is the matter, my dear child ?" I exclaimed. 
"Are you iU?" 

" Father," said she, " I am frightened at your request. 
Would you raise the city about our house ? Would you 
destroy»our reputation ? Do you forget that the Sabbath 
has commenced, and that nothing should disturb the rest 
of the Lord?" 

" Good God !" thought I, " in transporting us to 
America, has the traitor Jonathan transformed us into 
Jews ? Forgive me, my child," said I to Susan, " I was 
absent-minded ; the events of the day have made me 
lose my memory. Go bring me my large Hippocrates 
from the library ; I shall not be sorry to rest my brain 
by reading a little Greek. There is nothing more re- 
freshing." 

For her sole answer Susan seated herself on my knee, 
passed her hand over my forehead, and kissed me. 

"Poor papa," said she, "how tired he is! See, 
mamma, he forgets that on the Sabbath eve we read 
nothing but the Bible." 

Decidedly, I was a Jew without knowing it. What, 
nevertheless, gave me some doubt was that on opening 
the family Bible, I found there the I^ew Testament, and 
was able to read in St. Mark that the /Sabbath loas made 

V 



146 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

for oiian and not man for the Sahhath. This saying 
made me reflect ; but not wishing to wound any one, I 
kept my meditations to myself, and leaving the whole 
family absorbed in their pious reading, I went down into 
the garden. 

The evening was beautiful, the trees displayed the 
freshness of their young verdure, the sun was setting in 
a golden cloud — everything invited revery. I was 
weary, I entered the Chinese kiosk, threw myself on the 
divan and lighted a cigar. There was a rustic chair by 
me which was standing idle ; I placed my legs on the 
back and p.erceived, to my shame, that the American 
fashion had its advantages. 

Concealed behind the blinds of the kiosk, I reposed, 
my eyes mechanically fixed on Sambo, who was pound- 
ing sandstone in a corner of the garden to clean his 
knives. The poor fellow was wholly absorbed in his 
task when Martha darted from the kitchen hke a spider 
pouncing on a fly. 

" Son of Ham," said she, snatching the hammer from 
his hands, " what is thee doing here?" 

" You see. Miss Martha, I am breaking stone." 

" Wretch !" exclaimed she, " thee is breaking the 
Sabbath." 

Sambo fled with a piteous air; he passed near my 
retreat, sighing ; then suddenly, perceiving the house cat 
which had just caught a mouse : 

" Take care. Pacha," sung he, " if you chase rats on 
Sunday, Martha will hang you on Monday." 

I was still laughing at the grotesque face of the negro, 
when two persons seated themselves on a bench placed 
in front of the kiosk, and so near me that I did not lose 
a word of their discourse. I recognized the amiable 



THE ELECTION — THE SABBATH. 147 

Setb, who was profiting by the solitude. Sabbath, and 
evening, to preach a sermon to the fair Martha. 

" Beloved sister," said he with a grotesque gravity 
and listening to each of his words, " there are three 
things which astonish me greatly — ^The first is that 
children should be foohsh enough to throw sticks and 
stones at the trees to knock down the fruit ; if the 
children remained quiet, the day would come when the 
fruit would fall of itself My second astonishment is 
that men should be mad and wicked enough to make 
war and kill each other ; if they remained quiet, they 
would die a natural death. The third and last thing 
which astonishes me is that young men should be so 
unreasonable as to waste their time in running after the 
girls whom they wish to marry ; if they stayed at homo 
and made their fortunes, the girls would run after them. 
What does thee say to it, Martha?" 

" Seth, I say that thee has the wisdom of King Solo- 
mon, as well as his vanity." 

" Martha," exclaimed the Quaker in a softened voice, 
*' thee has as much wit as beauty." 

" Seth," answered Martha, still panting for breath, 
" thee does not mean what thee says." 

" And thee, Martha," resumed the other, " does not 
say what thee thinks." 

" Bravo !" said I to myself; " people make love in 
America. It is a use of the Sabbath of which I had not 
thought. This shop-keeping nation, which calculates 
everything and lives but to grow rich, condemns itself to 
compulsory repose on one evening in the week in order 
to pay at this time the debt of youth and love. Let us 
see how Mr. Seth will make his declaration." 

After a thousand circuits, the amorous Quaker arrived 



148 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

at the speech, which, according to all appearances, had 
been long expected. 

"Martha," said he, drawmg a long sigh, "Martha, 
does thee love me ?" 

"Seth," replied the good Christian, "is it not com- 
manded us to love one another ?". 

" Yes, Martha, but what I ask thee is whether thee 
experiences towards me something of that particular 
feeling which the world calls love ?" 

" I do not know what to say," stammered the timid 
dove, "I have always tried to love all my brethren 
alike, but if I must confess it, Seth, in communing with 
myself, I have often thought that in this general affection, 
thee had much more than thy share." 

The confession was made, it could no longer be with- 
drawn ; I heard, I think, a loud kiss which sealed the be- 
trothal ; when suddenly Martha uttered a terror-stricken 
cry, and sprang upon the bench. An enormous ISTew- 
foundland dog had suddenly dashed athwart the amorous 
tete-d-tete. I rose and perceived in the shadow, the white 
teeth of Sambo. The rascal was bursting with laughter ; 
to avenge himself on the Quakeress, he had opened the 
door of the house and let loose upon Martha the impor- 
timate third party which had terrified her. 

I had little liking for the Quaker, but I could not help 
admiring his firmness and gentleness. Far from being 
afraid of the dog, he called him, and taking from his 
pocket a lump of sugar, offered it to the animal, who 
readily suffered himself to be allured and caressed. 

"Friend," said the holy man, speaking to the dog, 
which was looking at him, wagging his tail, " thee has 
disturbed me in the sweetest moment of my life ; another 
than I would have beaten or killed thee ; he would have 



THE ELECTION — ^THE SABBATH. 149 

been justified in doing so ; but I will show thee the differ- 
ence between a Quaker and the generality of mankind. 
For my sole vengeance, I will content myself with giving 
thee a bad name." 

And, flattering the dog, which sprang after him to 
obtain a new lump of sugar, Seth politely conducted the 
animal to the gate ; then, suddenly closing the grating, 
he cried at the top of his voice : 

" Mad dog ! mad dog !" 

In the twinkling of an eye, there were no more boots 
at the windows ; thousands of heads looked out, and 
menaced the enemy; stones, sticks, and utensils rained 
like hail on the animal ; a pistol-shot struck him before 
he reached the end of the street, and he fell to rise no 
more, uttering a howl which pierced me to the heart. 

Furious, I seized Seth by the collar, and flung him out 
of the gate. 

"Wretch!" said I, "I know not what restrains me 
from crying ' Mad Quaker,' to have thee knocked down 
like this poor animal." 

" Friend Daniel," returned master Seth, picking up his 
hat, " I will meet thee again." 

And he departed coldly. 

" Go to your room, miss," said I to Martha. " What 
are you doing, at this hour, in the garden ?" 

"Bless me!" said she, sobbing, "I was doing no 
harm ; I was only looking for a son-in-law for my moth- 
er ! " 

I was stifling with auger. " Ah !" I exclaimed, " how 
many men call and perhaps believe themselves virtuous, 
who act like this cowardly hypocrite! They admire 
themselves as honest men and saints, because they do 
not lay hands on their enemy, but they rid themselves 



150 PARIS IN AMEKICA. 

of him by giving him a Lad name. Calumny ! calumny I 
thou art only the form of assassination among a people 
which is vain of its civilization. Shame on the wretches 
who make use of this venomous weapon, were it only to 
kill a poor dog." 

Tired of my soHtary eloquence, I betook me to bed, 
but not without thinking of the dismal day which the 
first pleasures of the coming Sabbath promised me for 
the morrow. How much I regretted the free gaiety of 
the Parisian Sundays ! " Frenchmen ! " I exclaimed, 
" amiable and chivalrous people, let rude nations glory 
in their feverish industry and tiresome liberty ! Drive 
far from thee these savage democrats, these melancholy 
dreamers, who, shouldst thou listen to them, would 
make thee the rival of the English and Americans. 
Friend of wine, glory, and beauty, thy lot is the best. 
Leave the empire of the world to these wan laborers, 
who take life in earnest ; keep thy incorrigible tone and 
charming lightness. Amuse yourselves. Frenchmen. 
Make war and love ; forget the world and pohtics. If 
ye should reflect, ye would laugh no longer." 



JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF A CHURCH. 151 



CHAPTER XVII. 

JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF A CHURCH. 

The next morning I rose at daybreak. A public man 
should set an example, and I was not sorry to let the 
Yankees admire the zeal and vigilance of their new edile. 
My morning walk was long ; the pavement belonged to 
me. I followed, with a jealous eye, all the passers who 
dragged their feet after them like ducks, and wore a 
furrow in my side-walks. Anarchy reigns in the streets ; 
each one goes where he likes and as he likes ; it is scan- 
dalous ; I do not understand why a law is not made to 
oblige men to walk according to the pleasure of the gov- 
ernment. To France, the queen of order and propriety, 
would belong the honor of correcting a last abuse. 

On approaching the house, I perceived Sambo, dressed 
in black like a gentleman, with waistcoat, cravat, gloves, 
and stockings of dazzling whiteness. He looked hke a 
magpie. As soon as he recognised me, he ran to meet 
me, waving his hand impatiently. 

" Massa," he exclaimed, *' everybody is at service ; 
make haste ; I am waiting for you." 

And he put in my hands a thick book, bound in sha- 
green, and fastened with silver clasps. 

" Are the ladies at mass V asked I. 

" At mass !" said he, with an air of astonishment. 
" My mistress is a Christian." 

" Fool ! Are the Catholics Turks ?" 



152 PAEIS IN AMEEIOA. 

"Massa, they say that the Catholics are like the 
heathens of Africa ; they have vaudousP 

" What is a vaudou .^" 

"Massa, it is a little god which one makes himself, 
and which is not the true God." 

" Are you stupid enough," exclaimed I, " to believe 
that the Catholics adore a fetich ? This will do for your 
savages of Senegal." 

" Massa," said he, oj)ening his eyes wide, " the Papists 
pray to statues ; I have seen them on their knees before 
them." 

" And you did not understand that what they invoked 
was not those stones, but the saints of whom the statues 
are the images ?" 

" I am not a scholar, massa," returned the negro, with 
a contrite air, " but the mmister, who knows everything, 
often warns us not to do like the Papists, who worship 
idols." 

" Oh, pretxchers ! " exclaimed I, " you are everywhere 
the same ! Nothing is easier than to know the CathoHc 
faith ; it is only necessary to open a catechism ; but 
hatred does not wish to be enlightened ; what it needs is 
to outrage the greatest communion on the globe. Con- 
tinue this abominable work, worthy of your father, the 
devil. We Catholics — we, your victims — will not em- 
ploy towards you this terrible retaliation of calumny. 
The truth suffices us. Every one knows that Luther 
and Calvin were two villains who, through ambition and 
covetousness, destroyed the human mind by intoxicating 
it with pride and liberty. Falsehood brought forth the 
Reformation ; the Reformation brought forth philosophy; 
philosophy brought forth revolution ; revolution brought 
forth anarchy ; anarchy brought forth" 



JOUENEY IN SEARCH OF A CHURCH. 153 

"Massa," said Sambo, incapable of comprehending 
anything of my just indignation ; " if the Papists are 
Christians, so much the better, I am very glad of it." 

" "Why so much the better ?" 

"Because Jesus Christ died for all who call upon 
him ; he will save the Papists like the rest of the Chris- 
tians." 

' Sambo, my friend," said I with supreme disdain for 
so much simplicity, "you will never be a theologian. 
Go to your church ; I will keep you no longer. "Where 
are the ladies ?" 

" My mistress," answered he, " is at the Episcopahan 
Church, with all the best society of the city. Miss Susan 
is at the Presbyterian Church." 

" With her brother, of course ?" 

" Ko, Massa, with young Mr. Rose. Massa Henry is 
at the Baptist Church." 

"Very well," said I, drawing a sigh; "and you, 
Sambo, are, doubtless going to join Martha?" 

" No, no, Massa," exclaimed he ; " Miss Martha is a 
Tunkeress ; I am a Methodist. We, poor negroes, whom 
the whites reject from their churches, are all of the same 
religion." 

" I understand ; you have a black church and a colored 
Christianity. Go, my friend, pray to Christ in your own 
way. Among these hostile sects which rend the Gospel 
into shreds, the Lord will recognize his own." 

While Sambo departed with long strides, I walked on 
slowly, my head cast down. The discovery which I had 
just made overwhelmed me. My house, my refuge in all 
my troubles, was only a Babfel, the den of all heresies. 
The husband Catholic, the wife Episcopalian, the daugh- 
ter Presbyterian, the son Baptist, the maid-servant 

1* 



154 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

Quakeress, the man-servant Methodist ; each one having 
a different fjxith and contrary hopes ! What confusion ! 
What anarchy! It was hell in my dwelling! Yet, 
nevertheless, Jenny loved me passionately, the children 
were happy only by our side, the servants respected me, 
I saw around me none but happy and placid faces. Each 
read the Bible in his own manner, each had his par- 
ticular symbol, yet no one quarrelled with another. 
ISTowhere unity, everywhere love and concord. It was a 
contradiction to the ideas of my childhood, a mystery 
which confounded my reason. 

" No," thought I, " I will not suffer this moral dis- 
order. There is here a false peace ; these flowers hide 
the precipice. If it continues I am lost. I mean that in 
my house every one shall think with me or be silent ; I 
must have uniformity. Let me be an indifferent Chris- 
tian, it matters little ; I am a Catholic in soul and mind ; 
in the Church, in the State, in the family, there should 
reign but a single law, but a single will. If need be, I 
will employ salutary rigor ; I will terrify my Avife, I will 
threaten my children, I will dismiss my servants, I will 
sacrifice everything to impose obedience or silence. I 
am a Frenchman, long live unity !" 

In the midst of these sage reflections, time passed. It 
was striking ten when I entered Acacia Street. This was 
an immense avenue which, in majesty and length, scarcely 
yielded the palm to the rue de Rivoli, with this difference 
that, every hundred paces, some Grecian, Byzantine, or 
Gothic monument proudly raised its spire or cross to the 
sky. In a country where each one makes his own creed, 
it is natural to run against a church at every step. 

To find my way in this labyrinth was not easy. I 
addressed a good woman who was walking by my side 



JOURNEY IN SEAECH OF A CHUKCH. 155 

with prayer book in hand, and entreated her to point out 
to me the Congregationalist Church. 

" Nothing is easier, my dear sir," answered the old 
lady, with an amiable smile. " It is a little way oflf, but 
with my directions you will have no difficuly in finding it. 
Pay no attention to the churches on the left, the Congre- 
gational Church is on the right. Count the steeples, and 
you cannot make a mistake. The first church," added 
she, with the volubihty of a woman telling her beads, 
" the first church is St. Paul, the Catholic Chapel ; the 
second, the Ursuline Convent ; the third, the Episcopal 
Church ; the fourth, the Capuchin Convent ; the fifth 
belongs to the Baptists, the sixth to the Dutch Re- 
formed, the seventh to the Lutherans, the eighth to the 
colored Methodists, the ninth is the Jewish Synagogue, 
and the tenth the Chinese temple. You see it yonder 
with its multiplied roof and little bells. Once there^ you 
have only to go down the street ; you will find the Men- 
nonites ; after the Mennonites, the Reformed Germans ; 
after the Reformed Germans, the Friends or Quakers ; 
after the Quakers, the Presbyterians ; after the Presby- 
terians, the Moravians ; after the Moravians, the white 
Methodists ; after the white Methodists, the Unitarians ; 
after the Unitarians, the Unionists ; after the Unionists, 
the Tunkers. Then count four churches; that which 
calls itself preeminently the CJirUtian Church, then the 
Free Church, then the Swedenborgian Church, and 
lastly the Universalist Church ; this will give you in all 
twenty-three churches ; the twenty-fourth, which is nearly 
at the middle of the street, is the Congregationalist." 

Having recited this litany without stopping to take 
breath, the fairy made me a graceful courtesy and con- 
tinued her way. 



156 PAEIS IN AMEKICA. 

" Upon my word," thought I, " if the devil should lose 
his rehgion (I suppose that in hell one has some reason 
to believe in God), he would find it again in this street! 
In this country, the Ministry of Public Worship must be 
no sinecure. In France, where the State has scarcely 
four sects (I do not count Algeria), the administration 
has its moments of difficulty ; but here, how does it set 
to work to apportion the church moneys and put an end 
to the quarrels among thirty churches, each pulling its 
own way, and which, doubtless, are jealous of and ex- 
communicate each other Christianly ? This is a problem 
which I do not take it upon myself to resolve. Long live 
Spain ! There is a people faithful to tradition, and which 
has preserved the true principles. The country is a 
checker-board, where each thing has its compartment, 
and where the body and soul are equally and uniformly 
administered. Thanks to the union of the Church and 
State, everything is easy. One has a bishop as a prefect, 
a curate as a mayor ; functionaries, temporal or spiritual, 
have their marked place in the same list, and walk in tlie 
same steps. Birth, baptism, education, communion, con- 
fession, conscription, taxation, the press, death, and 
burial, are all linked together. The church is the ruling 
power, the ruling power is the church. Deserters and 
journalists are excommunicated, heretics are sent to the 
galleys. The nation, that eternal child, is led by gen- 
tleness or force, and without its having any hand in the 
matter, to the end which has been chosen for it without 
consultmg it. An admirable police, which made the 
happiness of Christianity before the abominable Luther 
unchained, at the same stroke, rehgious and civil liberty, 
a double pestilence of which the world will never more 
be cured ! Since men have been left the care of their 



JOURNEY m SEARCH OF A CHURCH. 157 

souls and lives, there is no longer either religion or go- 
vernment." 

On reaching the Ursuline Convent, I entered it. To 
meet with the worship of my country was to draw near 
to the France from which a jealous fate held me aloof. 
The Church is another country ; from this at least exile 
does not expel you. 

The chapel was small, but richly decorated. At the 
end of the sanctuary, under a canopy of red cloth em- 
broidered with gold, a marble Madonna held the infant 
Jesus in her arms, and gazed on him with the inef- 
fable tenderness of a Virgin who has just given birth to 
the Saviour. Rare plants, new flowers, and clusters of 
white lilacs surrounded the altar, blazing with light. The 
organ rolled its harmonious waves, the incense rose in 
clouds, pierced by a sunbeam, while behind a grating, 
covered by a curtain, nuns and young girls chanted, in a 
soft, slow voice, Inmolata^ Integra et casta es^ Maria, 
In an instant, and as in a dream, I again beheld my van- 
ished youth, my long-lost friends. I fell on my knees 
and wept. No; a religion which reaches the heart 
through the senses is not idolatry : why should not our 
body as well as our soul serve the Lord ? 

Having quitted the convent, I entered the Episcopal 
Church, a few paces off. Here was the Catholic mass, not 
so well said, and not so well chanted. At sermon time, 
the clergyman ascended into a long gallery, carrying 
a thick book under his arm, which he placed before 
him and slowly turned over. It was a MS. collection of 
sermons for every Sunday and fast day in the year. 
When he had found the discourse which he sought, he 
put on his spectacles and, in a monotonous tone, com- 
menced his reading, amidst the profound attentio^i of 



158 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

the assembly. The subject which he had chosen was the 
eternal generation and consubstantiation of the Word — 
one of those mysteries which defy the human intellect, 
and before which the faithful can only bow their head. 
But nothing dismays the audacity of a theologian ; with a 
text, a definition, and a couple of syllogisms, he will trace 
them back to Saint Paul, and render faith superfluous. 

Judging by the silence that reigned, the audience was 
edified. Jenny kept her eyes fixed on the speaker, and 
did not lose a word. One would have said that she un- 
derstood everythiug, to the Latin, Greek, and even He- 
brew quotations with which the dissertation was crammed. 
I did not think that scholastics had so many charms. 
For my part, I left after the first head : I abhor these 
sterile discussions. To seek to demonstrate to me what 
is undemonstrable would render me sceptical. I accept 
mystery ; it surrounds me on every side. In nature as 
in my soul, I feel the Infinite which overflows me ; but 
reason tells me that I can feel it but not understand it 
— I, who am but an atom lost in the immensity. The 
hand which sustains me, and which also sustains the 
worlds, I do not see ; I abandon myself to it, and adore 
it ! To give himself to us, God does not bid us compre- 
hend liim, he asks us to love him. 

On passing the Methodist Church, I thought of Sambo, 
and entered through curiosity. The assembly was nu- 
merous and greatly animated. The negresses, covered 
with gold and jewels, displayed the immense breadth of 
their crinoline. The negroes, singing in a true and plain- 
tive voice, praised God with all the ardor of loving 
hearts. The minister, a negro of great stature and vene- 
rable api^earance, addressed the assembly in a sermon 
which pleased and touched me. Where this negro had 



JOURNEY IN SEAKCH OF A CHURCH. 159 

received his theological education I know not. He was 
a former slave, whom the goodness of God, he said, had 
ransomed from a servitude less harsh and shameful than 
that of sin. But this slave had suffered and reflected ; 
he was a man ! Life had taught him what is not taught 
in the schools : his energetic and familiar language went 
straight to the heart. It was evident from the emotions 
of the audience. 

In the beginning, he eulogized Methodism — a religion 
blessed of the Lord, he said, judging by the conquests 
which it made daily. He enumerated at length the 
number of its believers, and the wealth of its churches. 
Four million communicants, twelve thousand ministers, 
sixteen thousand churches, and fifteen million dollars' 
worth of property — such were the fruits of a zeal that 
never slumbered. To Old Europe, which subjects the 
church to the state, and holds it in a perpetual minority, 
he opposed Young America, which leaves to Christians 
the care of their worshii) as of their conscience. 

" Liberty," said he, " when sanctified by religion, 
works miracles which the Old World, buried in its 
prejudices, will never witness, England, so proud of 
its opulence, corrupts its bishops by surrounding them 
with pagan luxury, and degrades its vicars by condemn- 
ing them to wretchedness without dignity ; while in the 
live churches of the United States, the generous piety of 
the members surrounds with comfort and respect a min- 
ister who owes nothing except to his flock. A prince 
believes himself a new Constantine, when by chance he 
erects and endows a chapel ; the Methodists alone of the 
North built four hundred and fifty churches in 1860. 
The poor negroes of Acacia Street treat their chaplain 
better than the kings of the East. 



160 PABIS IN AMEEICA. 

" But, continued he, with a mingling of shrewdness 
and naivetd, " this minister, so well paid, must pay to 
the negroes who have chosen "him a debt which the 
almoners of princes do not always acquit. This debt is 
truth ! Hear, therefore," he exclaimed, " what truth 
compels me to tell you. The negro has a yielding heart, 
and a liberal hand ; this is good — it is Christian ; but 
sometimes he carries generosity so far as to endanger his 
soul. ' We have never heard of such a thing,' you say. 
' We are told again and again that the Christian endan- 
gers his soul when he yields to avarice, when he aban- 
dons himself to covetousness ; but who has ever taught 
that a man loses his soul through too much generosity ? ' 
My brethren, I will tell you what this perfidious liberal- 
ity is : it is what you practise in church, as you listen to 
the sermon. 

" If I should condemn anger or coquetry, drunkenness 
or license, would each one of you take the lesson to him- 
self? Would he profit by it ? ' Good,' says a man who 
lives on brandy, ' I know this portrait of a drinker ; the 
minister means my cousin Samuel.' Stop, drunkard, take 
it all to thyself. 'Good,' says a beautiful Midianite, 
who, to gain a new dress, urges on her husband to he 
and deceive ; ' the minister does right to unmask the 
faults of my neighbors ; you are caught. Miss Deborah ; 
you are caught. Miss Ichabod ; it is all for you, coquettes, 
nothing for me.' Thus, brethren, out of my words you 
reserve nothing for yourselves. The first third you give 
to your neighbor ; the second, to your friends ; the last, 
to your husband or wife. This is the way that the 
teaching of the Lord is barren, this is the way that you 
lose your souls through too much generosity. Christ is 
generous, but in a difierent manner; he is a miser who 



JOURNEY m SEAEOH OF A CHTJECH. 161 

takes everything to himself — our sins, our miseries, our 
weaknesses, our sufferings. We see him on the cross — 
his head cast down, and panting like a man overburdened 
with sorrow. When, brethren, will we take back from 
him our share of the burden? When will we relieve 
Christ, our Redeemer and friend, who died for the 
slave and the sinner ?" 

At this appeal, the assembly threw themselves on their 
knees, and in the midst of tears a formidable halleluiah! 
arose to the sky. The impulse was worthy of admira- 
tion ; it saddened me. I am neither an aristocrat nor a 
planter ; I beheve that a negro is not an ape, because he 
has hands and can speak; but, after what I had just 
heard, I began to suspect that the black was a man Hke 
myself, and perhaps a better Christian; this thought 
appalled me. Sambo my brother! Jesus Christ died 
for these woolly heads! It was more than my pride 
could suffer ! 

" If this be true," thought I on quitting the church, 
" then what a crime is slavery ! This civil war, which is 
laying waste the South — is ^it not the chastisement 
inflicted by God upon Cain ? " 



162 PARIS m AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

A CHINESE. 

It was half-past eleven; Truth was to preach at 
twelve. I hastened my steps in order to arrive early 
at the Congregationalist assembly. But I could not 
resist the desire to visit the Chinese temple. In a 
country where reigns religious anarchy, the parent of 
all others, I was curious to see how the children of 
Confucius had adapted Christianity. A secret voice 
told me that an old worn-out people would have more 
sense and wisdom than the generality of Protestants. 

On entering, I uttered a cry of disgust. I was in a 
Buddhist j^^goda. Opposite me, on a j^latform, in a 
carved and twisted niche, was a horrible, grotesque 
figure, of painted and gilded wood, seated, its legs 
crossed, on a lotus flower. It was Buddha, with his 
enormous belly, bald head, humpy forehead, large ears, 
and great eyes. Indeed, I am liberal, and I pride my- 
self upon it. For the last thirty years I have been a 
subscriber to the Constitictionnel, and I have changed 
no more than my journal. Like it, and without know- 
ing why, I hate the Jesuits, which is the mark of strong 
minds ; but to make use of liberty to enthrone idolatry 
— ^this is too much ! I accept Lutheranism, Calvinism, 
Judaism, and even Mahometanism, provided it does not 
come from Algeria ; but to go further is no longer liber- 
alism, but paganism. As well return to the worship of 
Mithra. 



A. CHINESE. 163 

There was uo one in the pagoda except two children, 
two horrible little Chinese, placed on either side the 
platform. Each was turning a horizontal cylinder, stuck 
or rather larded with numberless bits of paper, as if roast- 
ing coffee. It was a form of worship wholly new to me. 

At the sound of my footsteps a species of monk 
emerged from a neighboring cell. His brown, patched 
gown, naked feet, shaven head, little, oblique eyes, and 
yellow, wrinkled skin gave him the air of an old woman 
disguised as a Capuchin ; it was a bonze. He ap- 
proached me, and without speaking, held out a wooden 
cup ; I threw an alms in it to rid myself of the men- 
dicant. 

" Thanks, brother," said he in excellent English. 
" May the divine Fo recompense your charity. May you 
never appear again in another life, under the form of a 
woman or a jackal !" 

And leaving me astounded by this singular benedic- 
tion, the bonze ascended to the altar, took from a little 
cupboard some bits of silvered and gilded paper, and 
burned them under the nose of the idol. 

" What are you doing there ?" I asked. 

" Brother," he answered, " I have just changed your 
ten cent piece into ingots of gold and silver, and offered 
them to the Master of the Truth." 

" Your ingots are paper and are not worth two far- 
things." 

"What does that matter?" said the monk. "Fo 
cares for the intention, not for the metal." 

" Ah, that our Ministers of the Finances were Chinese!" 
I was on the point of exclaiming ; but I kept this rash 
reflection to myself, and asked the bonze what those 
children were doing, whose arms were indefatigable. 



164 



PARIS IN AMERICA. 



" They are praying for the whole world," replied he. 
" Upon each of these papers is inscribed the sacred syl- 
lable ;" saying this, he prostrated himself, crying, " OM ! 
OM ! OM ! Each of the cylinders bears a thousand 
of these sacred devices, and makes fifty revolutions a 
minute, three thousand an hour, seventy-two thousand 
from one sunset to another. A hundred and forty-four 
million prayers, therefore, arise every Sunday from this 
temple alone. During the week there are more ; I have 
my cylinders turned by steam; but on Sunday, in this 
country of infidelity, the very machines observe the 
Sabbath, and I am reduced to the handiwork of these 
children." 

The foolish credulity of this idolater inspii-ed me with 
horror. 

*' How is it that you are sufiered in a Christian land ?" 
exclaimed I. " If there were still faith in Israel, you would 
have been long since exterminated, prophets of Baal." 

" Why should we not be suffered ?" repHed the bonze 
in a calm voice ; " liberty is like the sun, it shines for 
all. The Americans send missionaries to China, why 
should not the Chinese send missionaries to America? 
It is said that France has made war on the Children of 
Heaven for nothing but to avenge the death of a few 
monks legally assassinated by our mandarins; it is added 
that the Catholic Church, long since closed, has been 
reestablished in Pekin ; I execrate the shedding of blood 
on both sides, my religion abhors murder, and knows no 
other weapons than peace and gentleness ; but I bless the 
conquered liberty, and demand that it shall profit the 
Chinese as well as the French." 

"A pagoda in the Champs-Elysees !" replied I. 
" Official idols ! My good man, you are mad ; we have 



A CHIKESE. 165 

no occasion for Chinese at Paris. We have enough of 
them — in porcelain." 

"It seems to me," continued the monk with absurd 
gravity, " that rights are reciprocal. If it is glorious, if it 
is just to open a chapel at Pekin, why would it be unjust 
to open a pagoda at Paris, and preach the truth freely 
therem ?" 

" Stupid bonze," exclaimed I, carried away with holy 
zeal, " dare you speak of the truth ? Do you not feel 
that your doctrine is falsehood and your worshij) idol- 
atry ? If you see this, you are a charlatan and should 
be punished ; if you do not see it, the first duty of the 
State is to shut your mouth that, in your ignorance, you 
may not pervert its subjects. The liberty of error is the 
liberty of poison, the torch, and the dagger; truth alone 
has a right to speak." 

"I thought," said the Chinese, "that in France and 
England there were several Christian churches, and even 
Jewish synagogues." 

" Doubtless, and even in France the State supports all 
recognized religions ; for, learn, my good man, that 
France is at the head of civilization, in religious hberty 
as all other liberties." 

" The State," continued the bonze, " recognizes there- 
fore, three or four religious truths which mutually com- 
bat and destroy each other? To the Christians, for 
instance, Jesus is a God, what is he to the Jews ?" 

" My friend," said I to the barbarian, " I pity your 
ignorance. If you could comprehend the nature of 
official truth, you would see that it lives by contradic- 
tions. It is the dream of Hegel realized. Thesis and 
antithesis mingle and are confounded there in an admi- 
rable synthesis." 



166 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

The bonze opened his little eyes and raised his head 
towards heaven. It was evident that the great concep- 
tions of civilized Europe could not enter this narrow 
brain. I would have thought that tliere was less distance 
between a German philosopher and a Chinese. I resumed 
my demonstration under another form ; that is, I changed 
the words without troubling i;^yself about the things— 
the true Avay to carry on a discussion. 

" The truth which the State protects," said I to the 
infidel, " has nothing in common with vulgar truth. It 
is a broad and comprehensive truth which embraces all 
the communions based on the Bible, our sacred book. 
Judaism, Christianity, and even Mahometanism are 
branches of this primitive religion, as ancient as the 
world, and which has on its side numbers, morals, and 
civilization. Outside these churches, which share the 
universe, there is naught but idolatry and barbarism. 
To convert you by cannon balls is our right and our 
duty. Truth germinates in the bloody furrows opened 
by war, the God of Christians is the God of armies, 
Dominus Sahaoth /" 

" You are not a Yankee," exclaimed the fanatic, his 
eyes sparkling suddenly with a strange lustre. " I have 
been observing you ever since you came. In the face of 
the Saxon there is the bull and the wolf; in yours, there 
is the ape and the dog. You are afraid of liberty, you 
speak of what you know nothing, and in set phrases. 
You are a Frenchman." 

Seeing me mute with surprise — *' Dare you," said he, 
" make numbers the proof of truth ? The numbers are 
on our side. How many are there of you Catholics ? 
One hundred and thirty million. Of Christians ? Three 
hundred million at most. There are five hundred mil- 



A CHINESE. 167 

lion of US, Buddhists. Our faith extends from Kam- 
schatka to the White Sea. It softened the savage tribes, 
it charmed the Chinese and Japanese ; that is to say, the 
civilized peoples, at a time when Europe was a forest and 
America a desert. Do you talk of antiquity ? Do you 
reflect that in the days of Alexander, Buddhism already 
held its councils, and that the inscriptions of King 
Acoka, engraven on the rocks of India, preached to the 
universe alms and sacrifice ? Do you not know that 
Buddhism is a reform of the religion perverted by the 
Brahmins ; and that the Vedas, the holy works of our 
ancestors, date back to the earliest days of the world ? 
Leave aside numbers and duration ; these are, perhaps, 
but happy accidents. What religion was the first to 
preach voluntary poverty, devotion, and charity ? Are 
you ignorant that Fo has had five hundred and fifty ex- 
istences, and that he has ofiered himself up as a sacrifice 
in each of these incarnations ? He has become a sheep 
for the tiger, a dove for the hawk, a hare for the famished 
hunter. Have you not read the holy story of Vesavan- 
tara, who, through charity, delivered up his wife and chil- 
dren ? Are we not the only communion which, through 
abhorrence of murder, abstains from the flesh and blood 
of animals. Do I not filter the water I drink in order to 
spare the life of some invisible flesh worm ? You Chris- 
tians, your religious history is nothing, they say, but a 
succession of quarrels, wars, and massacres. To-day the 
victims, to-morrow you are the executioners. Among 
ns Buddhists, there are only martyrs. During two thou- 
sand four hundred years, our blood has more than once 
been spilled, we have been driven from India, but our 
hands are pure. We have nothing to efiace from our 
annals, what religion can say as much ? 



168 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

"Your Gospel announces an admirable doctrine; I 
know it, and do not judge the faith of Christians by their 
conduct. The words and sufferings of Christ have moved 
me to the heart. But I have been reared in other ideas : 
I devoted myself twenty years ago to a life of poverty, 
which sustains and consoles me. Like you Christians, I 
have kept the faith of my fathers ; like you, I can neither 
accuse my ancestors of falsehood nor of error. Which 
of us is mistaken ? Which has truth on his side ? I know 
not, and ask only to be enlightened. Let us have done 
with the reign of_ violence ; let us have done with igno- 
rance and disdain ; let us give full scope to all beliefs ; 
let us leave reason to do the work which God has confided 
to us. In broad daylight, aU shadows disappear. Aban- 
doned to itself, the religion which is of men will melt 
away Hke snow ; that which is of heaven will rise Hke an 
oak, and cover the earth with its branches. Open the 
world to speech : I have faith in liberty because I have 
faith in truth." 

" You are nothing but a Chinese," said I ; and depart- 
ing with a majestic step, I left the wretch confounded by 
my superiority. 



A CONGREGATIONALIST SEEMON. 169 



CHAPTER XIX. 

A CONGEEGATIONALIST SERMOX. 

When I arrived at the meeting, the service was not 
commenced. Nothing is more dreary than a Protestant 
church. Oaken pews, large wainscots darkening the 
walls ; no pictures, no flowers, no lights ; a dull and 
gloomy air, which freezes the senses. One would call it 
a worship made for the blind. I am mistaken ; there was 
an ornament — a large placard, on which was written, in 
enormous figures, the number 129. 

The church was crowded, but it was a mute crowd. 
Motionless in his place, and absorbed in his black book, 
each believer was praying, as if alone in the world with 
God. No noise, no moving of chairs ; nothing of that 
charming exchange of looks and bows among beautiful 
ladies, delighted to display their piety and dress ; noth- 
ing of that pleasing confusion which makes our churches 
resemble a fashionable drawing-room — it was the silence 
of a forest. 

At last the minister entered. Directly, from all the 
pews arose a harmony softer than the sigh of the wind 
upon the wave. Men, women, and children — each sung 
with his whole soul, with infinite ardor and spirit. For 
the first time, I felt that song was the natural form of 
prayer. Astonished at my silence, a neighbor pointed 
to the mysterious figure and ofiered me his psalm-book 
in which the music was written. They were singing the 
129th Psalm, or rather a Christian imitation of that sub- 
1 



170 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

lime prayer which the Catholic Church has adopted for 
the office of the dead. To call it by its name, it was the 
De profundis, a cry of hope and love, whose beauty is 
hidden to us through habit : 

" Out of the deeps of long distress,* 
The borders of despair, 
I sent my cries to seek thy grace. 
My groans to reach thine ear. 

" Great God ! should thy severer eye. 
And thine impartial hand, 
Mark and revenge iniquity, 
No mortal flesh could stand. 

* " But there are pardons with my God, 
For crimes of high degree ; 
Thy Son hath bought tliem with his blood. 
To draw us near to thee. 

" I wait for thy salvation, Lord, 
"With strong desires I wait ; 
My soul, invited by thy word, 
Stands watching at thy gate. 

"Just as the guards that keep the night, 
Long for the morning skies, ' 
Watch the first beams of breaking light, 
And meet them with their eyes, 

" So waits ray soul to seek thy grace ; 
And more intent than they, 
Meets the first openings of thy face, 
And finds a brighter day. 

* Watts' version of Ps. cxxix. 



A CONGREGATIONALIST SERMON. 171 

*' Then in the Lord let Israel trust, 
Let Israel seek his face ; 
The Lord is good as well as just 
And plenteous is his grace. 

" There's full redemption at his. throne 
For sinners long enslaved ; 
The great Redeemer is his Son, 
And Israel shall be saved." 

The song ended, Truth addressed the assembly. De 
Maistre was right in defining a Protestant minister — 
A man in black clothes^ who says plain things. Never 
had a man a less sacerdotal appearance than my poor 
friend. With no costume to distinguish him from his 
flock, no high pulpit from which to overlook the assem- 
bly, he spoke, standing on the floor, with brotherly 
familiarity. One would have said that he sedulously 
refused ' himself the resources of rhetoric. The voice 
thundering, then softening its tones, the arm calling 
'down vengeance or invoking forgiveness, the clasped 
hands raised towards heaven, the eye seeking God and 
beaming on perceiving him — all these beauties of Christ- 
ian art Truth ignored. Scarcely did he move his hand, 
scarcely raise his voice, yet there was in this simple 
speech an indescribable harmony, which thriUed every 
fibre of the heart. Never was the veil of language, 
which always hides the idea, lighter and more diapha- 
nous. It was not an orator that was heard, it was a 
man and Christian. To use a hackneyed phrase. Truth 
spoke like every one else ; that is, as every one would 
like to speak, and as no one does. To express great 
thoughts familiarly belongs to great souls. Art, which 
is only an imitation, cannot go so far. 



172 PAEIS IN AMEKICA. 

The following is nearly the substance of his discourse. 
But who can render the quivering of this voice, full of 
emotion? The Avords freeze on the paper; they are 
faded flowers, which have lost their color and perfume. 
I will endeavor, nevertheless, to give an idea of this 
teaching, which made a profound impression on me, 
although in the free manner of treating the Gospel there 
was a boldness and novelty which surprised and dis- 
mayed me. 

John, xviii., 37, S8. 

'■'■Pilate therefore said unto Mm^ Art thou a Mng^ then f Jesus 
answered^ Thou say est that I am a Mng. To this end was I 
horn, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should 
hear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth 
heareth my voice. Pilate saith unto him, What is truth ? 
And when he had said this, he went out."*"* 

"My Cheistian Brethren: 

"Among the names assumed by Christ while on 
earth, there is none which occurs oftener than that of Truth. 
Before Pilate, in his last hours, Christ declares himself king, 
hut of a kingdom which is not of this world, the kingdom of 
truth. The night before his death, in his last supper with his 
disciples, he leaves them, as a farewell token, this great saying — 
'■I am theicay, and the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto 
the Father hut hy me.''*' In other words, if we would translate 
into our modern terms this Hebraic form of speech, / am the 
living truth, which leads to God. 

'■'■The living truth/ Do you comprehend the meaning and 
scope of these words ? Are there not many among you to whom 
truth is nothing but the relation of things to each other — an 
equation, a figure, an abstraction ? Are there not those also to 
whom it is only a word devoid of sense, a synonym of the public 

* I John, xiv., 6. 



A CONGKEGATTONALIST SEEMON. 173 

opinion, which changes again and again withoux cessation? 
How many wise men would willingly say with Pilate, ' What is 
truth ? The paradox of yesterday, the error of to-morrow ? 
There is nothing true but the interests of the present moment.' 
To please Caesar, to enjoy the present, and to give no thought 
to the morrow, is the highest philosophy of men who hope to 
die entire. 

"Let us not suffer this return to pagan scepticism". It would 
be to condemn our mind to servitude., and our heart to every 
species of corruption and cowardice. As in the early ages of the 
Gospel, '•Ye shall Jcnow the truth, and the truth shall maJce you 
free:*' 

" When the locomotive traverses our streets, dragging after it 
a long train, why do you step aside at the sound of the whistle 
which announces its coming ? Because you have been taught 
that the mass which is advancing will crush you with all the force 
of its weight multiplied by its velocity. Here is a scientific 
truth which is no longer an abstraction to you. It has become 
transformed into a strong conviction, which protects and saves 
your body. This conviction is now a part of yourself, it is living 
like you. 

" In this city, which glories in its civilization, there are thou- 
sands of men who brutalize and kill themselves by means of 
alcohol. "Why do not you, my brethren, abandon yourselves to 
this passion, more terrible, though not more guilty, than so 
many other vices which do not call forth a blush? Because 
you know that alcohol is a poison which knows no mercy. 
Science stands you instead of virtue. Here is another truth, 
physical and moral together, which, once entered into your 
soul, becomes identified with you. 

"Is this all? Do you not know noble hearts, to whom de- 
bauchery, ambition, and avarice are as hideous as drunkenness ? 
Ask the father, whose daughter has been robbed of her honor ; 
ask the mother, whose son has perished on some distant shore; 

* I John, viii., 32. 



174 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

ask the man, who disputes with the usurer the life of his wife 
and children ! These poor victims hate by experience the vice 
from which they have suffered. Others are happier ; they owe 
to education all their science. The piety of a mother, the devo- 
tion of a teacher, have inspired them with the instinct which 
saves them. Here is again a living truth — a truth which wo 
confess by our remorse, even when we refuse to listen to it. 

"In our republic there are patriots who resist the caprices of 
the crowd. Is this pride ? Is it calculation ? No. Provided 
that it can rule, pride adapts itself to every species of baseness ; 
interest finds it to its advantage to bend to the wind. But a 
pure soul, an enlightened mind, sees higher and further. Man 
or people, whoever names a despot, names a master whose 
passions are unchained, and who cannot escape the low appe- 
tites of those who surround and deceive him. Criminal wars, 
foolish expenses, corruption in high places, misery and ignorance 
among the masses, such are the fruits of all power without con- 
trol, the scourge of all force which nothing moderates. He who 
knows this will never descend to the trade of flatterer. Truth 
stands aloof, and consoles in their solitude minds that cannot 
debase themselves. 

" These are old maxims, you say, which are deduced every- 
where. For more than twenty centuries, they have been taught 
in the schools; the world goes on none the better. Why? 
Because in the books, where it is left, truth is dead ; give it 
your heart, espouse it, and it will live. It will become your 
conscience, your honor, your salvation. The mind is like the 
body ; it draws no nourishment from words, it must have the 
substance of things. To fling liberty to an enslaved people is to 
entrust children with a weapon which will explode in their 
hands. "Why ? Because respect for one's self and others, the 
feeling of right, the love of justice — these essential conditions 
of liberty are not articles of the law, they are not decreed ; they 
are virtues which the citizen acquires by dint of patience and 
practice. So long as liberty does not live in the sou], it is but 
a sounding hrass and o, tinhling cymbal; when once it has 



A CONGREGATION ALIST SERMON. 175 

entered into our very essence, all the artifice and fury of tyrants 
will not wrest it from us. 

"There are living truths, therefore, which are at once in 
things and in us. These put us in communion with N'ature and 
with our fellows. By revealing to us the laws of the moral and 
physical world, they subject us to it ; in every man that thinks 
like us they reveal to us a friend and brother. But this light 
which guides us here on earth does not warm our heart. It 
charms our mind, tempers our passions, enlightens and miti- 
gates our selfishness, it does not give happiness. Man has a 
thirst for the infinite, an impatience of earth, a need of loving 
which science cannot satisfy. To procure for ourselves the 
good after which our soul sighs, a new truth is necessary, which 
shall put us in communion with God, which is in us and in 
him. This truth, which can be naught but God himself, it is 
necessary for us to know and love. 

" To love God, and in return to be loved by him is what 
ancient wisdom was never able to comprehend ; modern philo- 
sophy perishes through the same powerlessness. In vain the 
conscience seeks God, in vain it calls on him with the earnest- 
ness of the shipwrecked man about to sink ; cold reason stands 
ready to repeat to us that between God and man, between the 
Infinite and the creature of a day, there is an abyss which 
nothing can cross. An inflexible nature, a Supreme Being, the 
slave of his own laws — this is all that the greatest efi'orts of the 
greates": minds can oflfer us. The love of God is an illusion ; 
prayer, the cry of the soul, is a vain murmur dying in a mute 
sky. Be silent, mortal ; stifle thy heart, shut thyself up in a 
despairing resignation ; thou art only an atom, crushed by the 
wheel of inexorable fatality. 

"Well, my brethren, nineteen centuries ago, a man came 
upon earth to bring the glad tidings^ to reconcile God and 
humanity. This prophet called himself the Son of God and the 
Son of Man, or (which is perhaps but another name of the 
same mystery) the light and the truth, '/am,' said he, ''the 
way-, the truths and the life ; no man cometh unto the Father 



176 PARIS IN AMEEIOA. 

hut ly me.'' The world listened, the world believed. On the 
day that the Word was made flesh, that the divine truth put on 
a body, faith, hope, and love appeared here on earth and en- 
tered the heart of man. This problem, which reason declares 
improbable, in which it sees nothing but contradictory data, 
Christ has resolved. A living truth, an incarnate truth, which 
God can love as a son, and which man can love as a Saviour — 
behold the bond of union which has united heaven and earth, 
which has given a father to humanity and children to God! 
Herein is the mystery of his revelation, herein is the proof of 
his divinity. Never would the mind of man have arisen of 
itself to this conception which confounds our intellect, and 
which nevertheless, illumines it with infinite splendor. Yes, if 
God loves men, it can be only in loving himself, in the contem- 
plation of his eternal truth ; yes, if man can render to God a 
worship which is not an insult, it is when he adores a ray of 
this highest light which does not disdain to descend even unto 
him. 

"To love Christ is to love truth; to love truth is to love 
Christ. This is the great secret of the Gospel. He who does 
not comprehend it is a Christian only in name. 

" Now, my brethren, commune with your own hearts and 
reflect when you love Christ, what is it that you love ? Per- 
chance, is it not the martyr who has given his life for his own ? 
Is it not the crucified victim, whose wounds are still bleeding? 
Beware ! this is a human love ; all parties, all religions have 
their martyrs, Christ exacts more, Christ is something else 
than a worshipped corpse, whose wounds we kiss ; Christ is 
truth ; it is by this title that he demands your love. Is it thus 
that you love him ? 

" You have faith, doubtless ; you believe the Gospel. But is 
not this a hereditary prejudice, a symbol which you dare not 
look in the face for fear of finding yourselves infidels. Do you 
reason on your belief ; do you take away from it all Jewish or 
heathen alloy which lessens its purity? Do you make your 
faith the rule of your actions ? Do you break with the world 



A CONGREGATIONALIST SEKMON. 177 

and yourselves? Do you say with the prophet and apostle, '/ 
believe, therefore have I spoken f If this be so, you love Christ 
as he wishes to be loved ; you love truth. 

" But if religion is to you only a form ; if you seek in it only 
a refuge from the voice of the truth which pursues you ; if your 
faith dies on your lips and is not translated into your actions ; 
if, wholly devoted to your fortune or repose, you fear error less 
than scandal ; if, in your cowardly prudence, you leave to God 
himself the care of defending his word ; if your charity employs 
itself only in alleviating the miseries of the body, and does not 
combat ignorance and vice; if you do not feel that your first 
duty is to snatch immortal souls from tlie servitude of sin ; if 
you have not the holy madness which braves and treads under 
foot the wisdom of the age ; if, finally, you do not yourselves 
the works which Christ did here on earth, my brethren, do not 
delude yourselves — you are, I grant, able, prudent, wise, and 
feeling, you are not Christians, you do not love truth. 

"'I have doubts,' you say; 'if I believed I should lovo 
Christ,' And I tell you, love him, you will then believe in 
him. Love him as the living truth which leads to God. Theso 
ceremonies displease you, leave them alone; these dogmas appal 
you, cast them aside ; perhaps they are human inventions, per- 
haps you will understand them later. Christ has established 
neither dogma nor ceremony. Simplify your faith, and, in the 
words of the most believing and boldest of the apostles: 
' Quench not the Spirit^ prove all things, hold fast that which 
is good.'* There are passages in the I^ew Testament which 
trouble you, put them aside. What matters it if the evange- 
lists differ among themselves, so that the Gospel is always in 
harmony with itself, so that the words of Christ always glow 
with the flame of the eternal truth ? 

"Is Christ an object of scandal to you? Do you not yet 
comprehend that it was necessary that the truth should become 
incarnate, that it should be living, and that you could love it, 

*1 Thess. V. 19, 21. 



178 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

Ah, well ! Christ himself has pity on your weakness and re- 
stores to you your liberty. ' Whosoeve?' shall speak a word 
against the Son of Man it shall te forgiven him; hut unto him 
that Masphemeth against the Holy Ghost, (or, under another 
name, the Spirit of Truth),^ it shall not deforgiven.f Seek 
therefore after truth for itself but seek in good faith : after a 
long circuit, truth will lead you back to Christ. 

" 'I seek the truth,' jou say, 'but do not find it.' No, my 
brother, you do not seek it. The pride of your mind, the pas- 
sions of the flesh, hold you back. Science escapes you, perhaps ; 
but moral truth, religious truth, you know where to find. At 
your fireside, mute, veiled, like Alcestus escaped from the 
kingdom of the dead, there Truth awaits you. 

" You well know that when you return, wearied of life and 
of yourselves, it gazes at you there from under its veil, and this 
gaze judges you. At night, when, in darkness and alone, you 
dream of the ambitions and, perhaps, crimes of the morrow, it 
is there, still there. Its eye follows you in the obscurity ; its 
silence chills you. You despise men ; you set yourselves up as 
judges over laws, but you tremble before this spectre, which 
you can neither corrupt nor slay. 

"This guard, which keeps watch over your soul, you will 
never flee. The hour will oome when the hand of death will 
weigh heavily on your forehead ; when you will no longer see, 
but in a mist, all that you love — your money, your honors, your 
wife, your children. But, in the midst of despair and tears, it 
will still be there— that veiled figure ready to receive you and 
bear you away into the invisible world. Guilty or innocent, 
you will not escape it: it will be your remorse or your hope. 

" Follow it then hero on earth ; follow it in the midst of your 
troubles and uncertainties ; follow it despite your incredulity. 
Cling to truth and it will save you. Yes, when you have 
crossed the threshold of the toijab, the figure will cast aside its 
veil, and Christ, visible at last in all the splendor of his divine 

* John, xiv. 11 . f Luke, xii. 10. 



A CONGREGATIONALIST SERMON. 179 

smile — Christ will say to you, ' My son, know me, I am the 
truth.' " 

The moment the sermon was ended, I left the assem- 
bly and hastened into an adjoining room. I caught 
Truth in my arms, panting and exhausted. I took his 
hand : it was burning. 

" Unhappy man," said I, " you are killing yourself!" 
" My friend," murmured he, laying his head on my 
shoulder, " let us do our duty : the rest is vanity." 



180 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XX. 



A MINISTER'S LUNCHEON. 



Amidst a crowd congratulating the new apostl-e, I 
brought Truth back to his house. He was in great need 
of repose, and I urged him to throw himself for a moment 
on the bed. Unfortunately he was forced to remain 
standing, and to expose his health still further. Mrs. 
Truth had prepared a formidable luncheon for her hus- 
band's friends, and she had the kindness to number me 
among the guests. 

Jenny and Susan were there, delighted with the ser- 
mon which they had heard, and, perhaps, had not under- 
stood. The empire which speech exerts over women is 
something incredible. More than once, when in my 
chamber, alone and with double-bolted doors, I have 
asked myself in a whisper whether woman is not naturally 
superior to man. She has less violent passions, and a 
greater aptness for education. "While Adam slumbered 
in his innocence. Eve was curious for knowledge. It seems 
to me that since then, if we have inherited the go-^d-na- 
tured simplicity of our first father, the daughters of Eve 
have not degenerated from their ancestress. I believe 
with Moliere that it is prudent not to instruct too much 
this malicious and restless sex. By holding woman in 
honest ignorance, we give her all the vices, but also all 
the weaknesses of the slave ; our reign is secured. But 
should we elevate these ardent and ingenious souls — 
should we inflame them with the love of truth, who 



ISl 



knows whether they would not ere long blush at the 
folly and brutality of their masters ? Let us keep know- 
ledge for ourselves alone; this it is which renders us 
divine : 

" Our empire is destroyed, if man be recognized." 

We sat down to table. I confess that I was not sorry. 
In my religious ardor I had forgotten to breakfast, and 
the wolf began already to gnaw at my stomach. The 
mistress of the house did me the honor to seat me at 
her left hand, and served me, with the tea, two or three 
slices of Cincinnati ham, which I had great difficulty to 
devour decently. Susan stared at me, to reproach me 
for my voracity. This seemed quite natural in my 
daughter. In the United States, as in France, in every 
well managed household, the children give lessons to 
their parents. 

When my terrible hunger was somewhat appeased, I 
entered into conversation with my neighbor, a good and. 
amiable person, who adored her husband. It is the cus- 
tom in /America. The health of Truth gave me fears; it 
was certain to me that the pulpit would wear him out 
still faster than the newspaper, and I endeavored adroitly 
to insinuate this to his wife. Not to render her uneasy, 
I said to her, in a general way, that speaking was a hard 
profession, and that, to certain nervous and delicate tem- 
peraments, absolute repose was sometimes necessary. 
Lost labor ! Mrs. Truth talked to me of nothing but the 
greatness of her new condition. She was intoxicated 
with pride. 

" To be a minister's wife," said she, *' is the dream of 
every young girl. If you knew what sorrow I felt when 
my dear Joel renounced his first calling to become an 



182 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

editor! The ministry alone crown^ the wishes of a 
woman ; in this only she becomes, in the full force of the 
term, the companion of her husband, his veritable half, 
with the same pains, the same pleasures, and the same 
duties." 

*' Perhaps you preach ?" I asked. 

*' Not in the church," she replied ; *' the Apostle Paul 
forbids it. But is it only in the church that the ministry 
is exercised, and the word of God proclaimed? To 
instruct young girls, to counsel young wives, to visit 
women in child-bed, to weep with widows, to watch 
with the sick, to read the Gospel to them, and, if need 
be, to smooth their dying pillow — these are works in 
which I can aid my husband, and sometimes even take 
his place. Joel," added she, raising her voice, "is it not 
true that I am your vicar, and that you have confidence 
in me ?" 

To this singular speech, which, strange to say, sur- 
prised no one but me, Truth replied by a wave of his 
hand and gentle smile. The wife of the pastor, a pastor 
herself and assistant minister 1 Such an absurdity had 
never crossed my mind. It is true, that I had always 
lived in a reasonable country. The ball, and the pot on 
the fire — these are to a Frenchwoman the two poles of 
existence. To depart from them is contrary to rule, and, 
which is still worse, ridiculous. 

" Nevertheless," continued Mrs. Truth, " there is 
something still more glorious than the ministry — the 
mission." 

" Have you female missionaries ?" I exclaimed, terri- 
fied. 

"No," she replied, "the Catholics alone have this 
privilege, which I envy them. We have no Sisters of 



A minister's luncheon. 183 

Charity ; we have simply wives of missionaries. It is a 
character which I regret. To partake the labors of one's 
husband is sweet ; to partake his dangers is great in the 
sight of God. Do not be astonished at my ambition. I 
am a minister's daughter, and my two sisters have mar- 
ried missionaries. One is at the Cape, and the other in 
China ; both bless the Lord, who has given them a glori- 
ous lot." 

*' Your married missionaries," said I, *' have not so 
hard a life. To carry with them their wives, children, 
and firesides, is scarcely to change their country. Join 
to this a commodious and fixed installation, accompanied 
with a good salary, and in such conditions it does not 
need a very great virtue to preach the Gospel." 

"Do you think so?" returned my neighbor, astonished 
at my irony. " I know not whether it is better to jour- 
ney over the world, scattering on the way the Word of 
Christ and remitting the germ to the grace of God, or 
to shut one's self up in a narrow field, to plant, water, 
and cultivate this precious seed to the harvest ; but I do 
know that the happiness* of having those he loves near 
him takes away nothing from the charity. of the mission- 
ary, and adds perhaps another merit to his devotion. 
Peter was married ; was he therefore the less chosen as 
the prince of the apostles ? At the Cape, where my sis- 
ter has established a school and work-room for the young 
negresses, and makes use of civihzation to prepare souls 
to receive the Gospel, the Boors have burneJ dowm the 
mission three times ; my brother-in-law, who is a physi- 
cian, like the greater part of our missionaries, has lost 
his hand in extracting a poisoned arrow from a poor 
Caffre. In China, the Tai-Pings have driven my sister 
from province to province. She is now near Shanghai, 



184 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

ruined and sick, but always full of faith. Her house is a 
hospital for the wounded, an asylum for the widows and 
orphans. In the midst of fever and in perpetual anxiety, 
she aids her husband to preach the Gospel. More deeply 
tried than Abraham, God has already twice demanded 
again from her the life of her children. Happy is she, 
notwithstanding, to have been chosen for such a sacri- 
fice, and to serve the Lord, even at the price of the 
purest of her blood." 

I answered nothing. In the history of Abraham, there 
are things which move me more than the episode of 
Isaac. Virtue or fanaticism, such obedience is beyond 
my strength ; I do not comprehend it 

To put away reflections which troubled me, I turned 
to my neighbor on the left. He was of the true Saxon 
type — broad shoulders, full chest, a long neck surmounted 
by a long head, rugged features, a bald forehead, with 
shaggy eyebrows, under which glittered blazing eyes — 
strength and will united. Noah Brown — so my new 
friend was called — was the pastor to whom Truth suc- 
ceeded. I seized this occasion to instruct myself, and 
asked the nature of this Congregationalist church, the 
name of which perplexed me. 

"What !" said Brown, surprised at my ignorance, "do 
you not know that it is our old Puritan church — that 
which our Pilgrim Fathers, exiled by intolerance, brought 
with them in their first ship, the Mayflower? In break- 
ing with the abominations and idolatries of the Anglican 
Babylon, our ancestors wished to root out the heresy of 
hierarchy. After the example of the early Christians, 
they made of each gathering of believers a church, or 
independent congregation, a perfect republic, governed 
by the elders and administered by the pastor. From 



A minister's luncheon. 185 

this nucleus of independence and equality arose our 
parish. Herein is the secret of our political life and 
greatness. America is only a confederation of sovereign 
churches and parishes ; it is the blossoming-out of Puri- 
tanism. Here, as everywhere, religion has made the 
man and the citizen in its image; a free church has 
given birth to a free society." 

This paradox, delivered with all the Puritan arrogance, 
shocked me. To believe these fanatics, their catechism 
rules the world. Let them look at France, that country 
of enlightenment and philosophy ; they will soon know 
to what is reduced the influence of religion on the State 
and society. One is very Catholic at church, and what- 
ever he likes elsewhere. This I attempted to demon- 
strate to my preacher, but he was as obstinate as a Saxon 
lined with a Yankee. The more I heaped up proofs 
which ought to have overwhelmed him, the more bs 
struggled. 

" See the English," exclaimed he. " Whoever knows 
their church knows their history. Spiritual lords, as- 
semblies, rulers of the faith, an immutable charter in 
thirty-nine articles, a prayer-book established by the au- 
thority of the bishops and sovereign, privileged schools 
and universities, enormous estates, an important patron- 
age — what can all these produce if not an aristocratic 
society ? Had it not been for the dissenters, who are the 
salt of the earth, England would have long since been 
fossilized like ancient Egypt." 

" And the French ?" asked I, to embarrass him. 

"The Frenchman," replied he, "is a Catholic, mon- 
archist, and soldier, while the American is a Protestant, 
republican, and citizen. All these are linked together 
like the fingers of the hand. It would be as impossible 



186 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

to make France a republic as it would be to make the 
United States a monarchy. The diiFerence of the churches 
creates the difference of the societies." 

* May I know to which of these societies you attribute 
the superiority ?" 

" Judge for yourself," he answered. " The one is a 
society of children, the other a society of men." 

" I see with pleasure that we are of the same opinion." 

" I am delighted to hear it," returned he ; and he 
tranquilly began to sip his cup of tea. 

" It is certain," added I, leaning towards him, " that 
the Americans are less^ a people than a swarm of emi- 
grants scattered in the desert. At the present moment, 
perhaps, liberty has few inconveniences ; but in propor- 
tion as America grows older it will feel the necessity of 
forming a veritable society, and will rally under the flag 
of authority." 

" Sir," said he, abruptly setting down his cup on the 
table, " you do not understand me. I think just the op- 
posite of what you say." 

" What !" I exclaimed, " do you perchance take the 
French for a people of children ?" 

" In politics," said he, "there is no doubt of it. From 
what epoch do they date their liberty ? and what liberty ? 
From 1789. Ours dates from 1620; we are therefore 
their elders by one hundred and seventy years. We 
have three times their experience and twenty times their 
wisdom." 

" Then," returned I, in a trembling voice, " it is to Ame- 
rica that you decree the palm of civilization ?" 

" Let us avoid confusion of terms," replied he, coldly. 
" Civihzation is a complex word. It comprises so many 
different elements, that every people, in its turn, might 



187 



pretend to the first rank. What is it that constitutes 
civilization ? Is it rehgion, politics, manners, industry, 
science, literature, art ? Is it a single one of these 
things ? Is it all these things combined ? See how 
compHcated is the problem. Art, for instance, which the 
Gentiles call the flower of civilization, blossoms too often 
only on a decayed stalk. Among us moderns, who live 
in imitation of the ancients, I willingly grant that the 
oldest people is the most artistic. In France the taste is 
more refined than in England ; but an Italian has natu- 
rally more ingenuity than a Frenchman. In industry, all 
free nations are equal. Science has no country. As to 
literature, each people recognizes in its own the expres- 
sion of its thought. I leave to critics the puerile plea- 
sure of assigning ranks to Dante, MoHere, or Shakspeare; 
but religion, politics, and manners form an inseparable 
fasces. Therein is the pith of a country, therein is its 
future. In this point, I boldly give the first place to 
my church and my people. I believe in liberty : I am an 
American and a Puritan." 

" Mohican," thought I, " one perceives beside. You 
do not even know how to prevaricate to be polite." 

I was about to confound this insupportable preacher 
when, happily for him, we rose from the table. Leaving 
this narrow and uncivilized mind, I approached a young 
minister, whose engaging manner pleased me. Truth 
had introduced Mr. Naaman Walford to me as one of 
the pillars of the new Zion. Desirous of seeing that 
phoenix styled a reasonable theologian, I wished to make 
myself welcome to Mr. Naaman, and commenced, there- 
fore, by congratulating him on the admirable acquisition 
which his church had made in the person of my friend, 
Truth. 



188 PAKIS IN AMEKICA. 

" Pardon me," said he, " I am a Persbyterian." 

" A Presbyterian !" I exclaimed, " and you come to 
compliment a rival ? This is noble-minded ; for, be- 
tween ourselves, this man, this minister whose hand you 
take, is a heretic whom you damn." 

" I," said he, greatly surprised, " I damn no one, it is 
unchristian." 

" I explain myself badly, my dear Mr. Naaman ; I 
simply meant to say that, after the example of the divine 
shepherd who gathered up the strayed sheep of Israel, 
you do not fear to live familiarly with men whose errors 
you detes?." 

" Mr. Truth has edified me this morning," replied he, 
" and I do not believe him in error." 

It was my turn to be astonished ; I feared that I had 
misunderstood him. 

" Sir," said I to the young minister, " do you believe 
that your Church teaches the truth ?" 

" Doubtless, otherwise I should not remain in it." 

" Then," rejoined I, " there are two truths as there 
are two Churches ; a Presbyterian truth and a Congrega- 
tionalist truth ? Perhaps there is also a Baptist, a Me- 
thodist, a Lutheran, and even a Catholic truth. I sup- 
posed, excuse my ignorance, that truth was a unit, and 
that the mark of error was that it could be divided to 
infinity." 

" Doctor," said Naaman, somewhat moved by my 
French vivacity, "when you are at sea, and wish to 
know the time, what do you do ?" 

" I consult the sun and it gives it to me. Do you 
pretend to answer me by an apologue ? At my age, my 
dear sir, one has little taste for examples, he accepts 
nothing but reasons." 



189 



" I am young, doctor, and venture to count on your 
indulgence," answered Naaman, with an amiable smile. 
" The sun gives you the time. When it is noon at 
Paris, can you tell me what time it is at Berlin ?" 

" No ; all that I know is that a telegram sent from 
Berlin at eleven o'clock is received at Paris about half 
past ten ; that is, it apparently arrives thirty minutes 
before it is sent. Besides, it matters not ; I grant to 
you that when it is noon at Paris, it is one o'clock at 
Berlin, two at St. Petersburgh, and if you like, nine in 
the morning at the Azores, and seven at Quebec. All 
depends on the meridian." 

" Thus," said Naaman, " there is everywhere the 
same sun, and nowhere the same time ; how does this 
happen ?" 

" Really," returned I, " you are an astrologer, and 
"wish to make me an adept. I answer you, Mr. Pro- 
fessor, that it is the same sun, seen from different 
points." 

" One more question, doctor, and I wdll ask your par- 
don for my indiscretion. Among all these times, which 
is the true one ?" 

" A strange question ! the time is true to each one, 
since to each one the sun rises or appears to rise at a 
different point. Is the professor satisfied with his grey- 
bearded pupil ?" 

" Yes, doctor, I see that we agree in theology as in 
astronomy." 

" Mr. Naaman," said I, " I begin to comprehend you. 
The truth to you is the sun, which each of us sees 
according to the horizon which surrounds him. It is 
noon, doubtless, in the Presbyterian Church, while the 
hour has passed to the Baptists, and has not yet come to 



190 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

the Methodists. Who knows indeed if the Catholics are 
not placed at the antipodes ? It is an ingenious method 
of reconciling one's pride and charity." 

" Sir," said Naaman, blushing, " you wrong me. You 
have seized my thought; you misconstrue my words. 
Yes, to every Church, I dare say to every Christian, 
there is a different horizon. Birth and education give us 
the starting point ; it is for us now to proceed towards 
the truth which calls us, for us to draw nearer to it 
without ceasing by dint of study and virtue. That there 
may be Churches better illumined by the divine light I 
feel, but I no more doubt that in the most obscure 
Church may be found the best Christian. It is a great 
advantage to be placed near tlie sun, it is not always a 
reason for seeing it the most clearly. This, sir, is why I 
love my Presbyterian Church, and why, notwithstand- 
ing, I damn no one." 

All this was said with charming ingenuousness. "W hat 
a beautiful thing is virtue in a youthful soul ; it is the 
smile of the dawn in the opening days of May ! 

" My young friend," said I to Naaman, " your illu- 
sions have something seductive; the sentiment from 
which they are born is worthy of respect, but the first 
breath of reason dissipates them. If every Christian 
sees the truth in his own manner, there is no truth. Be- 
hold us returned to the scepticism of Montaigne ! You 
will not find a dogma that is not attacked, not a belief 
that is not shaken. Your theory, however Christian in 
appearance, condemns us to unconquerable doubt ; it 
ends in universal incredulity." 

"Doctor," replied the young man, with an air of 
modesty which touched me, " it seems to me that you 
arraign the human mind; that is, the work of God. 



191 



From the diversity and weakness of our eyes, it might 
also be conduded that we see nothing. It would be the 
same logic, and the same sophistry. In natural studies, 
each of us takes only the part which he can appropriate 
to himself; do we see that this diversity of opinion de- 
stroys science? In physics, is there a single theory 
which escapes discussion ? Will you deny, notwith- 
standing, that a physical exists ?" 

"The comparison is a bad one, my dear Naaman. Of 
the physics of thirty years ago, what now remains ? The 
truth of yesterday has become the error of to-day." 

" No, doctor ; the error has fallen like dead leaves ; 
the truth has not changed; for it is, under another 
name, only the knowledge of nature, and nature knows 
no change." 

*' I concede you this, young man ; but religious truth 
is of a different order from natural truth." 

" Doctor," returned Naaman, " even though I should 
grant you this contestable hypothesis, we should be no 
further advanced. Whatever may be the number and 
variety of the bodies which fill the world, we have only 
our eyes to see them ; what we do not see does not exist 
to us. Whatever may be the character of a truth, we 
have only our mind to comprehend it. Is our soul 
double ? To discover natural truths, God has given to 
each oije of us an inquiring, restless, laborious faculty, 
called reason. Is there in us another power which, 
without individual effort, receives religious truths in the 
same manner that a mirror reflects the object presented 
it ? If this faculty does not exist, diversity of religious 
opinions is unavoidable ; it belongs to the age, to educa- 
tion, to the country, to the natural energy of our mind,' 
or to its activity. If, on the contrary, this faculty exists. 



192 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

we ought all to think alike, as we all breathe alike, by a 
law of nature. We are not in this condition, I bless God. 
He has left to each one of us the liberty to mistake him, 
in order to give to each one of us the right to love him. 
This liberty, which appals you, is our fairest appanage ; 
this it is which makes of religion a love, and of faith a 
virtue." 

"Naaman," exclaimed I, "you are the prophet of 
anarchy! You dissipate the most beautiful dream of 
humanity. One faith^ one laxo^ one hing^ was the device 
of the Middle Ages — a device which every man wears in 
the depths of his heart. What do you offer us in ex- 
change ? Confusion. What is a church in which each 
one speaks a different language, and does not understand 
that of his neighbor ?" 

" Sir," returned the young man, " I love unity as much 
as you. Christ has told us that the day will come when 
there will be no longer but a single flock and a single 
shepherd ; I believe the words of Christ. But unity is 
not uniformity. Contemplate nature ; what an admirable 
whole ! Yet there is not a tree, a plant, a flower — what 
do I say ? — not a leaf that is like another. From infinite 
variety God draws living and perfect unity. Why should 
not the law of nature be also that of humanity ? Why 
should not the voice of each created being have its place 
in the concert of praise which the earth offers to the 
Lord? By the side of this fruitful harmony, what is the 
sterile monotony of a single note ? My unity is the uni- 
versal church — that church which embraces all faithful 
souls. Whoever loves Christ is my brother ; I look at 
his love, and not at its symbol. Augustine, Chrysostom, 
Gerson, Melancthon, Jeremy Taylor, Bunyan, Fenelon, 
Law, Channing — all are soldiers of this holy army. What 



193 



matters to me their regiment ? Their banner is mine ; 
it is that of truth." 

" Bravo, Naaman !" said Truth, resting his hand on 
the shoulder of the young minister. " Convert this 
heathen for me." 

" Heathen, yourself," exclaimed I. " I believe that I 
am the only Christian here, or, if you like better, Catho- 
lic, in the true sense of the word. While you tear reli- 
gion in pieces and abandon it to every caprice, I alone, 
faithful to ancient and solid prejudices, wish a single 
symbol, which shall be the law of minds ; and to maintain 
this law of truth, I summon to my assistance the secular 
arm." 

"Just as I told you, my dear Naaman," returned 
Truth, laughing. " He is a heathen of the Decline, one 
of those worshippers of force, who imagine that we can 
decree truth as we scribble laws." 

" I am not so absurd," replied I, a little touched. " I, 
too, love truth ; but I am not blind, like Utopists. To 
them, liberty is a universal panacea which everywhere 
cures evil and error; experience has rendered me less 
confiding. The world is not an academy of philosophers, 
peacefully discussing the rashest theories ; the people, 
that many-headed hydra, is an assemblage of feeble, 
ignorant, perverse, foolish, and criminal beings ; to con- 
tain and direct them, we must have a curb ; this curb is 
religion, imposed and maintained by external authority. 
If the ruling power does not take in hand the cause of 
the churcb, Christianity is at an end, society is delivered 
up to atheism, anarchy, and revolution. This is why, 
gentlemen, I believe in the necessity — what do I say ? — 
the sanctity offeree, placed in the service of truth. Am 
I, then, a heathen, when, after the example of St. Augus- 

9 



194 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

tine, Bossuet, and so many other excellent Christians, to 
say nothing of your Calvin, I demand that society shall 
lend its sword to the church — in other terms, that the 
state shall have a religion ?" 

" A religion of state ?" said Brown, suddenly stretch- 
ing out his bull-dog head ; " What kind of a monster is 
that? Has the state a soul, that it must have a reli- 
gion ?" 

"Sir," replied I, drily, "you doubtless insist on an 
impious state and atheistic laws." 

" Sir," returned my testy preacher, " I do not bandy 
words. What is a state ? In a monarchy, it is the 
prince. Thirty million Christians will therefore have the 
religion of Achab, when by chance Achab has a religion. 
Among us, where the power alternates, the faith will 
change every four years. This is what I call atheism 
of the first water. To believe by order, is to believe 
nothing." 

" When I speak of the state," interrupted I, " I mean 
the political society." 

"Well," resumed he, "the majority will decide on 
the symbol and faith, after discussion and amendments. 
We shall have a parliamentary religion. The Incarnation 
or the Trinity will be put to vote and voted. What a 
farce ! Strange to say ! since the world existed, there is 
not a natural truth that has not been discovered by a 
single man. Long trials, sometimes even the martyr- 
dom of the inventor, have been needed for this truth to 
collect a few believers : a century has not been too much 
for it to win the majority. But in religion it is a different 
thing : the majority is never mistaken. Pleasant infalli- 
bility ! Restore us the Pope. I accept a miracle ; I re- 
ject an absurdity." 



195 



" Mr. Brown," said I, raising my voice, " you do not 
answer my objection. If the state has no religion, the 
law will be Atheistic." 

" Still words, sir," returned the intractable preacher. 
" The state is an abstraction. It is a fashion of desig- 
nating the sum total of the public powers. But society 
is a living thing ; it is the reunion of all the citizens inhab- 
iting the same country. If these men are Christians, if 
their code of morals is Christian, how will the sanction 
which such men will give to public morals ; in other 
words, how will the law be Atheistic? A good tree 
cannot bring forth evil fruit." 

" Imprudent man !" exclaimed I, " how can you ima- 
gine that, if the state permits every species of belief, the 
Gospel will not suffer it ?" 

" You have little faith, sir," said Brown, darting on me 
a terrible glance. " You forget that Paul has said, We 
do not fight loith carnal weapons. Christianity has never 
been more glorious or stronger than in having the whole 
world against it. Look around you, sir ; you see that 
nowhere is religion more blended with life than in Ame- 
rica, yet, notwithstanding, the state does not recognize 
it. Do not imprison souls, do not keep them in darkness 
which corrujDts them : leave them free, and they will go 
to God." 

" But, lastly, my dear Mr. Brown ; it is impossible 
for the state to support all communions, and make it- 
self the treasury of the first fanatic who may open a 
church." 

" I wish it to support none," cried the savage Puritan. 
" By what right would it interfere ? Has it any other 
money than ours ? What ! shall the Jew support the 
Christians for them to call him a deicide ? Shall I sup- 



196 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

port the Unitarians, who dispute to me the divinity of 
Christ? What injustice ! what an outrage on my faith! 
See, moreover, what a role you give the state. When 
the legislator declares that reUgion is not under his juris- 
diction, he proclaims resjDect for conscience ; he is a 
Christian by his very abstention. Suppose now that he 
protects ten different communions, ten inimical beliefs, 
what will this insolent tutelage signify, if not that the 
state sees in religion a political instrument, and has for 
all religions only equal indifference and like contempt ? 
This fine system, which you have not invented, sir, is 
the police of Paganism." 

*' Very well," returned I, " leave to each believer the 
support of his worship; you will see how many churches 
you will have. Men will turn Atheists through eco- 
nomy." 

" You are mistaken, my dear doctor," said Truth, in a 
friendly tone. " The thing has been proved and decided 
against you. We have forty-eight thousand churches, 
all built by private individuals, the value of which is esti- 
mated at more than a hundred million dollars. We 
erect twelve hundred new churches a year. The aver- 
age salary of our pastors is about five hundred dollars, 
which makes a total expenditure for public worship of 
twenty-four million dollars. Look at the countries where 
the worship is supported by the state. I am sure that 
you will not find one which expends half as much.* The 
reason is simple : it is the duty of the state to be sparing 
of the money which it takes from the community, while 

* In France, the expenditure for religious worship for 1862 is 
fixed at 49,869,936 francs, yet our population is one-fourth greater 
than that of the United States. 



197 



the individual takes delight in enriching his church, and 
does not recoil from any sacrifices. Kothiug is so lavish 
as faith and liberty." 

*' Very well," said I ; " but the question of money is 
not everything. The political question remains. To 
give to the first comer the right to establish a church is 
to recognize all associations, to open a full scope to 
religious ambition and fanaticism; that is, to what is 
most ardent and perfidious in the world. Suppose that 
one of these churches gains the ascendancy, that it takes 
possession of souls ; here is a state within a state. You 
will then feel, but too late, the mistake which you have 
made in abdicating a protection more necessary to the 
government than to the church — a protection which at 
the bottom is only the safeguard of the sovereign 
power. 

" This is what I expected from you !" cried the Puri- 
tan, rushing again into the combat in the fashion of a 
wild boar. " I know you, Messrs. politicians ; Spmoza, 
the prince of Atheists, and Hobbes, the materialist, and 
Hume, the sceptic, long since betrayed to me your secret. 
It is to rid yourselves of religion that you must have an 
official church. Political influence is not what troubles 
you, it is of no account in a free country. What you 
dread is moral influence. Christianity is by its nature 
restless, aggressive, and conquering. It must have the 
man entire — society, government, it wishes to invade 
all, and to penetrate all with its spirit. This is what ani- 
mates us and terrifies you. Bishops slumbering in their 
seignorial purple ; poor vicars, whose zeal is moderated 
and directed ; a religion, a species of hackneyed and 
sterile morality, which preaches obedience to the people, 
speaking always of their duties, and never of their rights ; 



198 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

such is the ideal which charms you and inspires us with 
horror. You reject Uberty for the very reason which 
makes us desire it. We beheve in the Gospel, you are 
afraid of it." 

" I am afraid of associations," said I, " not of the 
Gospel." 

" Yes, because association is the only possible form of 
liberty. You must have a State whose omnipotence 
nothing disturbs, and which has naught opposed to it 
but isolated individuals and mute consciences. This is 
Roman despotism in all its deformity. We Christians, 
between the State and the individual, between force and 
selfishness, place association ; that is, love and charity, 
the true bond of hearts, the true cement of societies. 
To spread the Bible, to propagate the divine word, to 
enlighten souls, to succor the wretched, to console the suf- 
fering, to raise up the fallen, we need hundreds of asso- 
ciations and thousands of reunions. We wish a Christian 
people to do good by the free cooperation of all its mem- 
bers, and to remit to no one a duty which it alone can 
fulfill. But all these companies can exist but on one con- 
dition ; namely, that the Church, the first and most 
important of all, shall be absolute ruler in its sphere. It 
is the Church which, through its liberty, shelters and 
guaranties all associations; it is through this that reli- 
gion, far from being dangerous to the State, is the very 
life of society. This, sir, this is why we need religious 
liberty ; we need it because Christ has given it to us, we 
need it because it is the parent of all liberties. He who 
does not know this is neither a Christian nor a citizen." 

In reply to this fanatic I was about to silence him, 
when a little hand took mine ; I recognized Susan, and 
smiled. 



199 



" Dear papa," whispered she, *' it is almost ten o'clock ; 
we must go." 

" Yes, it is time to go to the forest. Is the carriage 
here ?" 

" Papa, it is the Lord's day, when we do not ride in 
carriages. It is to the Sunday School that I wish to take 
you." 

" You are right," thought I. " A Parisian astray in 
this glorious country of hberty, stands in great need of 
going to school. He must learn everything, and forget 
everything." 

Once in the street, far from this theological atmos- 
phere, I breathed freely. 

" Ouf !" said I, yawning, *'how heavy these people 
are ! They are like oxen yoked in the riding-school, and 
going round constantly in the same ring. An hour of 
religion and politics ! — it is too much for a Frenchman, 
it is enough to disgust him with the Gospel and liberty. 
Who will talk to me of something reasonable and amus- 
ing; of painting, the opera, music, or war? Paris, 
Paris, I need thy ambrosia to wash myself clean !" 

I know not what folly I was about to say to Susan, 
when I perceived the handsome Naaman walking near 
us with the step of a shepherd following his sheep. I 
had forgotten that I was in America, and that my 
daughter was for the moment a Presbyterian ! 



200 PARIS m AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

THE SUISTDAT SCHOOL. 

Who can tell me whence comes the weakness of a 
father for his daughter ? Is it the illusion that he recog- 
nizes himself in her as the mother fancies that she 
recognizes herself in her son ? To us, grey-beards, 
visages wrinkled by life, is it the pleasure of seeing our- 
selves born anew under a graceful and smiling form ? 
Is it the charm of a j^ure love which asks only to sacri- 
fice itself? I know not; but the inevitable Alfred was 
not there, and I jealously relished the happiness of talk- 
ing and laughing with Susan. I was mirroring myself 
in her limpid eyes, when suddenly a red hand, with a 
long arm for its handle, seized me in passing, while a 
sepulchral voice cried : " This night thy soul loill he 
required of theeV At the same moment, a paper was 
thrust into the pocket of my coat. I turned round, 
another hand seized me, another voice cried : " Think 
on thy salvation^^'' and a paper was thrust into my other 
pocket. At the sound, three black men rushed forward, 
raising their hands as in the oath of the Horatii, and 
each of them, howling anew, plunged into my breast, 
not a sword, but a little book. Then the vision disap- 
peared. 

'' What does this mean ?" asked I of Susan, who was 
laughing at my fright. 

*' Papa," said she, " it is the Religious Tract Society, 
w^hich is laboring for your conversion." 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 201 

" Many thanks !" I exclaimed, putting in my pocket 
the Mark of the Beast^ the Rose of Sharoii, and the 
Trumpet of Jericho ; "here you are enriched, as else- 
where you are robbed. What am I expected to do with 
these treasures of edification ?" 

" Be easy, papa," returned Susan, " in a moment they 
will serve to make others happy." 

" Acknowledge," said I to Naaman, " that you abuse 
type. To distribute the Bible may pass, since it is your 
hobby, but of what use can this puerile theology be 
which you scatter in the streets ?" 

" You are too severe," replied the young minister ; 
" reflect that all our religion is in the Bible. It is from 
the Scriptures that each one of us is to draw the rule of 
his faith and life by the free effort of his reason. A Pro- 
testant that does not read is a Christian that does not 
practise. What is more simple than a proselytism which 
brings us back unceasingly to the Bible? To awaken 
the conscience, to force the vilest of men to read and 
reflect, to repeat to him that he alone is charged with 
the care of his salvation — such is the object of all these 
publications. Think of thy soul, thou only art respon- 
sible for it, is the uniform conclusion of these little 
books. If you call this theology, all our literature is 
theological ; the most insignificant novel is imbued with 
the same spirit. The Bible recurs in it on every page. 
What charms us, is not the picture of the storms which 
devastate the heart and crush the will, but that of a 
young soul which, placed between temptation and duty, 
repulses Satan and calls on God. Our very fictions are 
treatises on education." 

" Yes," said I, smiling, " it is morality in action." 

" It is better than that," returned he ; " it is religion 
9* 



202 PARIS IN AMEKICA. 

ill action ; it is faith entered into the soul, and inspiring 
the whole life. We comprehend nothing of this false 
distinction between morality and religion. There are not 
two consciences. The natural man expired with the last 
Pagan : we know now only the Christian. Whoever is 
a Christian, is a Christian everywhere ; at church, in the 
family, in the district, in the state.'* 

I think that the pious Naaman was seizing with plea- 
sure this occasion to preach anew some old sermon, 
when, happily, we arrived at the Presbyterian meeting- 
house. It was the sixth church that I had visited during 
the day — a too-just expiation of my past lukewarmness. 

We entered the lecture-room — an immense apartment 
adjoining the church. Upon circular benches were seated 
a thousand children and youth, divided into groups. At 
regular intervals were seen standing the shepherds and 
shepherdesses of this graceful flock ; or, as they were 
styled, inonitors. At the sight of Naaman, the whole 
assembly rose ; the organ played a warlike march ; then 
all the young voices sang in chorus, with a flourishing 
accompaniment : 

"The children are gath'ring from near and from far, 
The trumpet is sounding the call for the war, 
The conflict is raging, 'twill be fearful and long, 
We'll gird on our armor and be marching along. 
Marchiug along, we are marching along, 
Gird on the armor and bo marching along, 
The conflict is raging, 'twill be fearful and long, 
Then gird on the armor and be marching along. 

"The foe is before us in battle array, 
But let us not waver nor turn from the way, 
The Lord is our strength, be this ever our song, 
With courage and strength we are marching along." [Chorus 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 203 

Is there a secret charm in the voice of childhood ? In 
rendering us disinterested with respect to ourselves, 
[do years render us more tender towards these young 
souls who are entering life without knowing its dangers? 
I know not ; but I was moved by the song of these little 
soldiers, who enrolled themselves so valiantly under the 
banner of the Gospel. 

" In twenty years," thought I, " how many will be left 
around this flag ? No matter ; a youth which has cour- 
age and faith is a glorious spectacle. God preserve us 
from those old men of eighteen who believe in nothing 
but their selfishness ; gangrened souls which infect all 
that they touch, and leave after them only corruption 
and death." 

Susan stood near rae. My daughter w^as a monitor. 
She had much to do, for she had a double class, and 
the school was in revolution. 

" Where is Dinah ?" cried a mutinous voice. " Dinah 
is my little teacher ; I do not know you." 

Susan took the little rebel in her arms, who struggled, 
in tears, and whispered in her ear. Directly the smile 
returned, like sunshine after a shower. 

"Do you promise?" murmured she. 

" To-morrow," replied Susan. The child threw her 
arms about the neck of her young teacher, and kissed 
her on both cheeks. Peace made, the lesson began. 

It turned on the history of Israel in the time of the 
Kings. For the first time, I confess to my shame, I 
became intimately acquainted with the prophet Elisha. 
He was a worthy man, when he was not in a passion. 
Despite the beauty of the moral, I was a little displeased 
with him for causing forty-four little children to be eaten 



204 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

by bears for mocking at his bald head. At such a price, 
I would not be a prophet, even in my own country. 

Two episodes had the greatest success with the chil- 
dren ; these naive souls have so lively a sentiment of 
good and evil. These were : first, the story of Naaman, 
the general of the King of Syria, imploring Elisha to be 
delivered from his leprosy. Naaman returned healed 
and converted, but converted with politic reservations, 
which prove once more that there is nothing new under 
the sun. 

"And Naaman said, . . . thy servant will henceforth 
offer neither burnt offering nor sacrifice unto other gods, but 
unto the Lord. 

" In this thing, the Lord pardon thy servant, that when my 
master goeth into the house of Riramon to worship there, and 
he leaneth on ray hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rim- 
mon : when I bow myself in the house of Rimmon, the Lord 
pardon thy servant in this thing. 

"And he said unto him, Go in peace." 

The tolerance of the prophet, I must say, scandalized 
the children. Naaman was hooted unanimously, as a 
coward who compounded between his conscience and 
his interest. Bravo ! youth, keep this holy anger. A 
day will come w^hen Rimmon, Mammon or Baal will 
extend to you a hand full of silver or honors on con- 
dition that you fall down and worship him ; happy he 
who does not bow before the idol, but keeps for God 
alone the sacrifice of his heart ! 

Next came the story of Gehazi, the servant of Elisha; 
a shrewd knave who took pay for the miracles of his 
master and traflScked in the virtue of others. What fury 
in the young audience, and what joj when Susan, swel]- 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 205 

ing her voice in imitation of the prophet, uttered the 
terrible anathema : 

"Is it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and 
oliveyards and vineyards, and sheep and oxen, and men servants 
and maid servants? 

" The leprosy, therefore, of Naaman shall cleave unto thee, 
and imto thy seed for ever. And he went out from his presence 
a leper as white as snow." 

It still exists — this honest posterity of Gehazi, although 
a little changed by time. Outside it remains as white as 
snow, but the leprosy has struck in ; it no longer gnaws 
upon the body, but the soul. 

This education given to children by youth charmed 
me ; I congratulated the minister upon it, 

" But," added I, " I suppose that you reserve the 
Catechism to yourselves. The doctrine runs a risk of 
being changed in passing through the mouth of these 
novices." 

" No," said he, *' the doctrine, like all the rest, we en- 
trust to the monitors — under our surveillance, of course. 
At eighteen, one is not heretical ; if there is anything to 
fear, it is too much attachment to the letter." 

*' Yes ; but if these young brains become perplexed?" 

" Well," said the pastor, " we are here to open to 
them the way. Our motto is that of Paul : ' Where the 
Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty/.'' We have no 
taste for the fiith of the boor — that credulous ignorance 
which would sanctify alike a Christian, a Mohammedan 
or a Buddhist. There is in youth a crisis of the mind as 
of the body. The hour comes when it is necessary to 
struggle with the truth, like Jacob with the angel ; he 



206 PARIS IN ame;kica. 

alone is convinced who has been conquered by the Gos- 
pel. We wish a faith reasoned upon." 

" And reasoning," added I ; " for each of these moni- 
tors must go out from here with the taste and mania for 
preaching." 

" So much the better," said Naaman ; " to us, every 
man is a priest, every woman a priestess. Why should 
there be less ardor and faith in religious than in political 
society ? Is the title of Christian less glorious and does 
it impose less duties than that of citizen ?" 

I was silent ; this fashion of considering religion as the 
common patrimony of believers contradicted all my ideas. 
I had been taught that the Church was a monarchy, not 
a republic. Like a wise man, I had always left the care 
of my conscience and faith to the church which had 
reared me. It was not I, but my director, who was 
charged with the care of my salvation. Why then as- 
sume a useless fatigue, and take upon myself a dangerous 
responsibility ? 

The lesson ended, Susan rid me of all my little books, 
to the great joy of the children A beautiful farewell song 
was sung, and the festival ended by a distribution of 
gifts and shakes of the hand. Rank, fortune, age, dress — 
for two hours all had been forgotten. One felt as if 
again in the early ages of Christianity, when the host of 
believers had but a single heart and soul. And to say 
that one day in seven, the Lord's day, all the American 
youth come into these fraternal gatherings to give or 
receive a lesson of love and equality ! In moral effect, 
what teaching, Avere it that of a Bossuet, would be worth 
this mutual education ? 

We departed. Alfred was at hand to take Susan's 
arm from me. I did not envy his happiness ; my ideas 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 207 

took another course : more than ever I felt in my heart 
a paternal weakness. I said to myself that it was time 
for Susan to exercise her great capacities as monitor in a 
household. I saw already in the future a whole army 
of grand-children, more religious, more energetic, and 
happier than their grandfather. And, gazing at my 
lovers, who walked before me with a light step, I reached 
home still dreaming. 

The rest of the day was passed in talking over all that 
had been seen and heard in the morning; and God 
knows how many things are seen and heard on Sunday 
in America ! What are our plays by the side of these 
festivals of the heart and mind ? Never had I passed a 
more serious day, never had the time appeared to me at 
once more rapid and better filled. 

The evening ended, as usual, with the reading of the 
Bible. Martha brought me the* great black book. It 
was already a friend to me. Every day I found in it an 
answer to some secret demand of my soul — a strange 
chance, which confounded my philosophy. 

We left off at the seventh chapter of Daniel. The 
vision of the four apocalyptic beasts, which were typical 
of the four great monarchies of antiquity, scarcely inter- 
ested me. I have too little imagination to take delight 
in these gigantic dreams. It was not so with Martha, 
who sighed at every word. The horn, " which had eyes 
like the eyes of a man, and a mouth speaking great 
things^^ drew from her a cry of admiration. She was 
filled with emotion when the prophet spoke of the 
'''• Ancient of days ^ whose garm,ent was white as snoio, 
and the hair of his head like the pure wool^ seated on a 
throne of flames^ and ministered to by thousand thous- 
ands of angels^ while ten thousand times ten thousand 



208 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

stood in silence before him.'''' What to me was but an 
allegory was to her truth, the only manner, perhaps, in 
which the divine idea can enter a simple soul which is in 
need of images to feel the infinite. 

After these great pictures came the two verses in 
which the prophet announces the Messiah : 

" I saw in the night visions, and hehold, one like the Son of 
man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient 
of days, and they brought him near before him. 

" And there was given him dominion, and glory, and a king- 
dom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him : 
his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass 
away, and his kingdom that which shall not be destroyed." 

On listening to this passage, I felt like Daniel : " ray co- 
gitations much troubled me, and my countenance changed 
in me : but I kept the matter in my heart." Had I not 
just witnessed on that very morning the spectacle of this 
royalty which nothing has arrested for nineteen hundred 
centuries? Christianity, whose funeral knell is sound- 
ing in Eurojje, I saw in America, younger, stronger, more 
triumphant than ever. Thirty million men living by the 
Gospel — what an enigma to a Parisian who had read 
Diderot, and who, one winter evening, imagined that he 
comprehended Hegel : 

Retired to my chamber, I paced the floor a long 
time, agitated by a host of opposing thoughts. The 
memories of childhood, the studies of youth, the reflec- 
tions of mature age, new ideas, revolved in my brain and 
filled it with chaos. It seemed to me that a mysterious 
voice was hovering in the air. 

" Bravo, Daniel !" murmured this ironical voice, *' you 
are turning monk. Here you arc, mystical, fanatical, 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 209 

and ridiculous into the bargain. You will ere long snuffle 
like Mr. Brown, and speak the dialect of Canaan better 
than he. Oh, Frenchmen, everlasting chameleons ! 
Chinese at Canton, Bedouins in Algeria, Puritans in Mas- 
sachusetts, comedians everywhere, when will you be 
men ? Return to Paris, Daniel : you wdll leave at the* 
barrier this insipid cant, and this great black book 
which men of taste respect without touching. A philo- 
sopher politely takes oiF his hat to Christianity ; it is 
unnecessary to be on bad terms with any one ; to go 
further is the weakness of a small mind. The God of the 
nineteenth century is ancient Pan, too long eclipsed by 
the suifering figure of Christ. Plunge into the infinite, 
Daniel ; adore your Father, the unfathomable ; it is the 
fashionable mode of worship, the only one that can be 
acknowledged by the infallible reason of to-day." 

" jSTo," exclaimed I, " my eyes are opened ; I have 
shaken off the painful dream which enervates our soul. 
These children have taught me this morning what a 
sacred bond unites in a common embrace liberty and 
the Gospel ! If for us all ends with the body, we have 
neither rights nor duties: w^e are a mischievous flock, 
who are to be fed and chastised till death sends it to 
rot in an eternal grave* He only is a person whom im- 
mortality brings into communion with God. He only is 
a man and a citizen who can hold fast to a living justice, 
to a truth which knows no death. The poor, the sick, 
the enslaved, the wretched, the criminal became sacred 
only on the day that Christ ransomed them ^yiih his 
blood and covered them with his divinity. Adieu, Hegel 
and Spinoza ! Adieu, words put in the place of things ! 
Adieu, divinized matter ! I have seen whither these doc- 
trines lead people and men. I desire neither the base 



210 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

enjoyments of the crowd nor the stoical resignation of 
wits. I must have something else than drunkenness or 
despair. I must live! To live is to believe and act. 
Returned from the illusions of youth and the ambitious 
schemes of mature age, oh, Christ! my reason calls thee, 
my experience brings me back to thy feet. After so 
many deceptions, restore me hope; after so many be- 
trayals, restore me love ; and may the happy day dawn 
ere long when. Old Europe imitating Young America, 
a single cry will arise from earth to heaven — a saving 
cry — God and Liberty! 



THE TRIA.LS OF AN AMERICAN FUNCTIONARY. 211 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE TRIALS OF AN AMERICAN FUNCTIONARY. 

After a well-spent day and a tranquil night, to rise 
early, refreshed in body and mind, wrap one's self in an 
ample dressing-gown, cradle himself in a rocking chair, 
and, smoking a Maryland pipe, give himself, as the Ger- 
mans say, a feast of thought^ is a true pleasure — when 
one is no longer thirty years old. 

Seated at the Avindow, I amused myself by seeing 
the city awakening from its sleep. Milkmen, coalmen, 
butchers and grocers were hastening through the streets 
and, descending to the subterranean story by the stair- 
case outside, serving each house, without disturbing the 
inhabitants. It seemed as if all was calculated that 
nothing might trouble the sanctuary where the master 
of the habitation reposed. The dwelling of a French- 
man is Uke an apartment in an inn, all enter who will ; 
the home of a Saxon is a fortress, defended with jea- 
lous care against the importunate and curious. It is 
a fireside, in the sacred and mysterious sense of this 
ancient word, borrowed from the east. 

While I was admiring the street, already swept and 
watered by my laborers, a gig, drawn by a fast horse, 
came noisily on my side. I have always loved horses ; I 
followed with my eyes the proud bearing of the American 
trotter, when suddenly the horse stumbled. From the 
back of the gig, an immense hat, hurled at full steam, 
darted like an arrow over the head of the animal, and, 

\ 



212 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

after the hat, a little man enveloped in a long coat. It 
was friend Seth, pursued doubtless by the manes of the 
dog whom he had assassinated. 

" Martha !" cried I, putting my head out of the win- 
dow, " Martha ! water, vinegar ; run, I am coming." 

When I reached the street, the man had already risen 
from the ground and shaken himself; he passed his 
hands along his body to assure himself that he had 
broken nothing, swallowed a glass of water, and set to 
work to unharness and raise the horse without saying a 
word ; Martha was by his side, trembling throughout 
her frame. 

" Come in," said I to Seth ; " a little rest will do you 
good. If you need any assistance, I am here." 

" Doctor Daniel," replied he, drily, " I have no occa- 
sion for thy services. We will meet again." 

And taking the horse by the bridle, he led him, with a 
limping step, towards the house of Fox, the attorney. 
Seth had doubtless come to the city on account of a law- 
suit, and would not have been a Quaker if a sprained 
limb or a bruised head had made him forget his interest. 

Ascending again to my observatory, I filled another 
pipe. Without passions or cares, I enjoyed my repose ; 
I took a childish pleasure in watching the sunbeams 
descend slowly into the street from the roofs of the 
houses. Three knocks at the door aroused me from my 
revery. It was my neighbor Fox, a portfolio under his 
arm. His visit surprised me. I knew that he was 
greatly provoked at his electoral defeat, and he was not 
a man to forget his rancor and envy in a day. 

" Good morning, Mr. Inspector of the Streets and 
Roads," said he on entering my chamber. 

The manner in which he emphasized each of these 



THE TRIALS OF AN AMERICAN FUNCTIONARY. 213 

words was disagreeable to me ; I am patience personified, 
but I do not like to be laughed at. 

" Good morning, Mr. Attorney," replied I in a curt 
tone. " May I know what procures me the honor of this 
visit ?" 

" Well, my dear doctor," resumed he in a derisive 
voice, " you are an important personage ! Here you are 
on the road to greatness ! Your very adversaries bow 
before your talent and fortune. What do your rivals 
say now ?" 

" I know nothing about it, Fox ; what do you say ?" 

"I," replied he, winking his eye, "I say nothing, 
except that the Tarpeian rock is close by the capitol." 

With this hackneyed maxim he threw himself into an 
easy chair, opened his snuff'box, slowly inhaled a pinch 
of snufF, and leisurely shook off a few grains which had 
fallen on his waistcoat. Then, crossing his legs, he 
raised his pointed paw towarcrs me, and gazed at me in 
silence, with the air of a weasel watching a rabbit. 

Perplexed at this conduct, I rose. 

" Have the goodness," said I, *' to speak clearly. 
What brings you to my house ?" 

" A trifle," said he, stretching himself in his chair, and 
twirling his thumbs, " a mere trifle. A small demand 
for five hundred dollars." 

"I owe you nothing that I know of," returned I, 
greatly astonished at this claim. 

" Doubtless, ray dear doctor, you owe me nothing ; 
but my client, that is another thing." 

Upon which, opening his portfolio, he took from it the 
following paper : 



214 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

Bill of Costs and Indemnities due to Seth Doolittle from 
Doctor Daniel Smith, Inspector of the Streets and Roads^ 
and civilly responsible for the had condition of the aforesaid 
Streets and Roads, 

1. To breaking a shaft, and dislocating the 
wheels of a new carriage $50.00 

2. To wounding a horse in the shoulder, and 
depreciation of the said animal, at the lowest 
price 100.00 

3. To indemnity to the said Mr. Doolittle, for 
a barked knee, bent hat, torn pantaloons, 
scratched face, etc., calculated at the lowest 

rate, through respect for the doctor 200.00 

4. To anxieties, concussion of the brain, loss of 
time, etc., etc 100.00 

5. To divers cares, results of the wound and 
fall, consultation with physician, advice of 
lawyer, etc. See bill, 

" Sir," said I to Fox, flinging into his face this apothe- 
cary's bill, " hoaxes are not to my taste. I am astonished 
at your playing a part in this ridiculous farce." 

"Very well," said Fox, "you prefer a suit. As a 
neighbor, I would have liked to spare you ; but, never 
mind. Here is the summons." 

" A suit !" exclaimed I, shrugging my shoulders ; " a 
suit brought by a citizen against the inspector of the 
streets and roads ! a functionary ! a public man ! a repre- 
sentative of the authority ! What a farce ! And article 
15 of the constitution of Year VIII." 

Strange to say, and which surprised me myself, I 
uttered this last sentence in French. These Saxons are 
so rude, so ignorant in administration, that their language 



THE TKIALS OF AN AMERICAN FDNCTIONARY. 215 

is powerless to supply these splendid words, which make 
the glory and greatness of the Latin races. 

" Tlie summons is for to-day," said Fox, with a sang 
froid which baffled me. " I hope that you will attend 
to it, so as not needlessly to detain my client in toAvn. 
In a quarter of an hour, our new justice of the peace, 
your friend, Mr. Humbug, will conclude this affair, 
which, to tell the truth, is an easy matter." 

"What! Do you persist in pretending that I am 
responsible for accidents in the street?" 

" Who is, then, if not you ?" returned the attorney. 
"Did you not solicit and accept the functions of inspect- 
or ? Are you not the agent and servant of the people, 
who elected you? If there is negligence, who is to 
blame, and who ought to suffer for it ?" 

" This is not the question," replied I, with just spirit. 
"I am not a pavier — a laborer, at the mercy of his 
employer — I am an officer of state, a member of the 
ruling authority, a delegate of the sovereign power." 

" You are the overseer of the paviers," said Fox ; "an 
overseer elected by the citizens, and responsible to those 
who elected you. Do you know of a country on the 
globe where functions exist for the benefit of the admin- 
istrators, instead of those under their jurisdiction ? For 
my part, I know of none but China, with its mandarins." 

" Ignoramus ! " I exclaimed, " read the law." 

" Read it yourself," answered Fox ; " it is at the head 
of the summons." 

I read the article, and cast down my head. Fox was 
right ; I was taken in the snare of my foolish ambition. 

This pretended honor, which flattered my wife, my 
daughter, and myself, was only a charge full of cares and 
dangers. In this abominable comitry, it is the people 



216 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

that command and the functionary that obeys. If I had 
known it ! 

A reflection restored my courage. " However behind- 
hand these Yankees may be," thought I, " they are not 
wholly barbarous. In France, the centre of civiUzation, 
we have a thousand laws which contradict each other ; 
the ruling power, do what it may, always ends by finding 
one which decides in its favor ; who knows whether in 
the United States there is not also a Bulletin des Lois f 
I will consult a lawyer." 

" Let us go," said I to the attorney. " The court is 
doubtless open ; Humbug will judge us. If I lose my 
suit, I shall know at least how much to rely on this 
American hberty which is dinned into my ears. Fine 
liberty indeed, that of a people where the authority ; that 
is the nation incarnated, bows before the decision of a 
justice of the peace 

On reaching the street, I found the Quaker still im- 
passible. On a sign from Fox, he followed us in silence, 
Martha approached me, sighing. 

" Master," said she, " it is the same pavement where 
thy daughter and I fell the other day." 

Power of a word ! This simf)le speech overturned my 
ideas. Susan, my Susan, it was thou that disturbed my 
conscience ! Indeed I have a political faith which is 
proof against modern follies ; with my head on the scaf- 
fold, I would maintain towards and against all that the 
authority is never wrong ; that if it suffers itself to be 
discussed it is lost. Let a horse, and even a Christian 
break his neck on a badly kept pavement ; it is a misfor- 
tune ; but what matters it ? Horses pass away, principles 
remain. The general interest is above these calamities 
of private interest. This is the conservative dogma 



THE TEIALS OF AN AMEKIOAN FUNCTIONAET. 217 

which has been taught me ; I profess it ; yet, four days 
before, the sight of my daughter wounded had made me 
forget my symbol. I, too, in my mad anger, would have 
gladly found in my way, a responsible functionary, and 
if I had had him, would have acted like this wretched 
Quaker, with the exception of the bill of five hundred 
dollars. How weak is our heart, and how we are all 
infected more than we think with the republican poison ! 

Humbug was in his office ; we entered ; Martha had 
not quitted her beloved. Was this a new enemy con- 
jured up against me? 

" Good morning, doctor," cried Humbug, the instant he 
saw me. " It is kind of you to honor my humble court- 
room with your presence. We cannot teach men too 
much to respect justice, the sister of religion. Discite 
justitiam moniti et non temnere Divosr 

" Mr. Magistrate," said I, " it is not a friend but a 
litigant that appears before you." 

" A suit," said he, bending his shaggy eyebrows. 
" Have you forgotten the Avise lesson of our fathers ? To 
carry on or defend a suit, needs six things : primo^ a 
good cause ; seciindo^ a good lawyer ; tertio, good coun- 
sel; quarto, good proof; quinto, a good judge, and 
sexto, a good chance. To unite all these conditions is so 
great a risk that I advise every one to abide by the 
Gospel, ^ If any man will sue thee at laio, and take 
away thy coat let him have thy cloak also.^ You will 
gain repose of mind, and the costs of law in the bar- 
gain." 

While Humbug was signing some papers, I perceived 
Seth and Martha in a corner in eager discussion. A few 
words caught at random did not permit me to follow the 
conversation. Seth spoke of an insult^ a good oppor- 

10 



218 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

tunity^ going to houseJceeping. Martha, sighing and ges- 
ticulating, talked of honesty^ the Bihle^ marriage. It was 
evident that the two turtle doves were having a quarrel 
on my account. Honest Martha ; she at least took in 
earnest the Bible which she read daily. Her domestic 
fidelity prevailed over her love. Perhaps too she was 
not sorry to assure herself before marriage who would 
be master in the house. 

" It is taking or leaving," said she, drawing away from' 
the Quaker with a gesture of impatience. 

" That is to say," answered Seth, " that it is escaping 
a great danger." 

Upon which, with a tranquil step, he went to find Fox, 
who had no trouble in demonstrating to him that to a 
wise man it was clear gain to lose a wife and win a suit. 

The clerk announced that the time for the hearing had 
come. 

" Let us go in," said Humbug. " Doctor, I give you 
the first turn. Lawsuits are like decayed teeth, to be 
gotten rid of as soon as possible ; once gone, they are 
forgotten." 

" How does it happen," said I, " that there are so few 
people in the court room ; I thought that in a free country 
justice was the business of all the citizens." 

" My dear doctor," returned the justice of the peace, 
" do you see those three phonographic reporters prepar- 
ing their pen and paper ? I tell you with Lord Mansfield, 
' The country is there.' Be tranquil, before two hours 
are over, all Paris will be occupied with your suit. The 
publicity of justice is the publicity of the newspapers. 
Suppress the report and you will be judged in secret and 
strangled with closed doors, were there three hundred 
persons within this enclosure. Our forum — a people of 



THE TEIALS OF AN AMERICAN FTJNCTIONAET. 219 

thirty million souls — is the newspaper. Thanks to it, the 
most insignificant litigant, the most obscure criminal, has 
the whole country for judge, witness, and counsel. The 
press, my good friend, believe an old journalist, is the 
only guaranty of justice and liberty." 

In these words of Humbug, I saw but one thing — that 
diabolical placard which was about to be hoisted in the 
street, to amuse all Paris with my misadventure. To es- 
cape this annoyance, I made a bold resolve, " I will lose 
my suit," thought I, " but I will have the laugh on my 
side." 

I was about to speak, but Fox had already read his 
points and commenced his plea. 

"There are," said he, waving his hand towards me, 
"there are certain men who, without genius, without 
talent, without capacity, but afilicted with a ridiculous 
ambition, or rather morbid itching for publicity, beg the 
popula-r suffrage, and imagine that public functions are 
made for the satisfaction of their puerile vanity." 

This exordium sufficed me ; I was not anxious to see 
more of it in print. 

" Permit me," said I 

" Do not interrupt me," cried he in his shrillest tone, 
bristling up his plumes like an enraged cock, " do not in- 
terrupt me." 

"Excuse me, honorable attorney," rejoined I, "before 
pleading, there must be a suit ; there is none here. 

" Mr. Judge," continued I, " elected inspector four 
days since, I might excuse myself on the ground of the 
newness of my functions, and throw back upon my pre- 
decessor a negligence for which I am not culpable ; but 
God forbid that a public officer, a proxy of the people, 
should permit himself such caviling. Functions impose 



220 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

duties ; I wish to be the first to set the example of re- 
spect to the law. I acknowledge myself responsible for 
an accident which I regret ; it is useless, therefore, to at- 
tack a man who does not dream of defending himself." 

" Very well," exclaimed the Quaker, incapable of con- 
taining himself. " Friend. Daniel, thee is a functionary 
after God's own heart — a Boaz, a Samuel ; give me the 
five hundred dollars or sufficient security; I declare my- 
self satisfied." 

*' A little patience," rephed I ; " I am ready to pay on 
the spot all lawful indemnity ; this indemnity I will not 
even discuss. Put my opponent on his oath ; this holy 
man, the Quaker, shall himself fix the amount of damage 
which I have caused him." 

" I refuse it," cried Seth, angry and. troubled. " I had 
rather prosecute ; my lawyer promises me full success. 
Can a Quaker take oaths ? Daniel,' does thee not read 
the Gospel ? Christ says, ' Swear not at all, neither hy 
the shy, for it is God's throne ; nor hy the earth, for it 
is his footstool • nor hy Jerusalem ' " 

" Enough," said Humbug, *' leave this useless cant. 
You are only asked to say in the presence of God, and as 
Christ counsels you, this is or is not so. Commune with 
your conscience, think of your salvation. I ask you for 
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 
Upon which, may God be your aid." 

The Quaker scratched his head and gazed at his lawyer 
with a piteous air. Fox remained mute. Seth turned 
round, and seeing Martha standing near him, grew pale 
and. began to stammer. His conscience, interest and love 
were waging a terrible battle ; and, it must be said to 
the honor of the Quaker, interest did not gain the 
victory. 



THE TRIALS OF AN AMEEICAN FUNCTIONARY. 221 

*' Here is the bill," said he ; " the facts are exact, but 
naturally, some deduction may be made on the price. 
The shaft was not a new one ; nevertheless, it must be 
mended. Five dollars is not too much, is it, Mar- 
tha?" 

The tall woman gave a nod, like the statue of the Com- 
mander in the opera of Don Juan. 

*' We will say five dollars," resumed the Quaker, in a 
lamentable tone. " The horse was galled already, but 
the wound is freshly chafed ; this is well worth five dol- 
lars, is it not, Martha ? 

" For myself," continued he, " I ask nothing ; but my 
pantaloons are torn, and I have lost my day. I will say 
ten dollars, shall I, Martha ?" 

" And the lawyer," cried Fox ; " are you going to 
forget him?" 

" The lawyer," rejoined the Quaker, happy to turn the 
rage of his avarice on some one, " the lawyer is a fool, 
who has given me nothing but bad advice. Five dollars 
to pay for ten useless words is even too much, is it not, 
Martha?" 

And Seth's eyes sparkled on seeing his beloved laugh 
heartily at the discomfiture of Master Fox. 

" Here are the twenty-five dollars," said I, in my turn, 
happy to be released so cheaply. 

" Ah, Martha," cried the Quaker, " what a ruinous 
thing is conscience! I am sure that those who make 
large fortunes have little, or make no use of it." 

" Silence, son of Belial !" said Martha ; " bless Heaven 
that placed me near thee." 

" Bravo, doctor !" said Fox, bowing respectfully, " you 
are a cunning dog. It is lucky for us that you are not 
a lawyer." 



PARIS IN A^IERICA. 

" You are mistaken, brother," answered I, laughing ; 
" I belong to the trade." 

" How is this ?" said Humbug. 

" I wrote a paper on legal jurisprudence, a few years 
since, with respect to women who soften the disposition 
of their husbands indefinitely, by means of laudanum, 
discreetly administered. This procured me a diploma 
from the University of Kharkoff; I am barrister and doc- 
tor of laws among the Cossacks." 

" Brother," said Humbug, in a solemn tone, " do me 
the honor to take a seat beside me. And you, Messrs. 
Phonographers, do not forget this wonderful fact. A 
physician, doctor of laws of the University of Kharkoif, 
is seen only in America ; I am sure that throughout old 
Europe would not be found the parallel of this phcenix 
which we possess at Paris — in Massachusetts. Kharkoff, 
gentlemen, do not forget it; Kharkoff I" 



COURT. 223 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE justices' COUET. 

I TOOK a seat near Humbug, taking care to remain 
I'espectfully in the background; and while, unimportant 
civil cases were called, I looked about at the court-room 
and its actors. 

There was no platform to elevate the magistrate above 
those amenable to his jurisdiction ; a simple wooden rail- 
ing separated the court from the spectators. Humbug 
was seated behind a large desk ; at one of the lower 
sides, the clerk was writing. Facing the judge was a 
sort of latticed stall, destined for the defendant ; a little 
in front of this was a table for the plaintiff and wit- 
nesses. Nothing more. What added to the simplicity 
of the spectacle was that no one wore costume. Hum- 
bug sat in a black coat, his hat on his head ; the lawyers 
had no particular dress. No gowns, no bands, no wigs. 
This primitive people has so naive a faith in justice that 
it believes in it without ceremonies. One feels every- 
where the Puritan coarseness. Let me add that there 
was a seat of honor for the phonographic reporters. 
They represent the people, watch over the magistrates 
and judge justice. Oh, democracy, this is thy work ! 
Yet, notwithstanding, there is no country where respect 
for the law and confidence in the magistrate are carried 
further. This is one of the whimsicalities which prove 
beyond dispute that the Saxon was created for liberty, 



224: Fi.KIS IN AMEKICA. 

as the Frenchman for war, and the German for sourkrout 
and philosophy. To suppose that this strong nourish- 
ment suited all stomachs was the folly of our fathers. 
In their ignorance, these good people did not divine 
that there were individualistic races and centralistic 
races, (two fine words ! ) the one made to hover solitary 
in space, like the kite ; the others to live in flocks and 
be shorn like sheep. Politics, religion, philosophy, 
liberty — these are questions of natural history, varieties 
Avhich distinguish the h67no civilizatius from all the 
other bipeds and quadrupeds. Admirable discovery! 
Eternal honor to the brilliant geniuses of our time ! 

When the list of civil suits was exhausted, a prisoner 
was brought into the stall. He was a pale young man, 
with long locks and an effeminate but impudent air. In 
reply to the interrogation of Humbug, he gave his name 
and residence, adding that he was a tailor, and that he 
pleaded 7iot guilty. He then seated himself, passed his 
lingers through his curls, and gazed at his accusers with 
a smile of disdain. 

" Your honor," said a policeman, " this is one of the 
most adroit pickpockets of the city ; in the crowd where 
we arrested him, six pockets had been cut out in a quar- 
ter of an hour. We took this rascal who is well known 
to us ; he had these large scissors in the lining of his 
coat ; nothing else was found on him." 

"Is there no other witness or proof?" asked the judge. 

" No, your honor." 

"Then release this gentleman, and try the next time 
to be more adroit.' 

The thief bowed to Humbug, and withdrew with a 
tranquil step, like a man who had never doubted his ac- 
quittal. 



225 



" What !" said I to Humbug, " do you let this knave 
go?" 

"Doubtless; there is no offence proven." 

" But the bad reputation of the wretch, the cut pock- 
ets, the scissors are proofs." 

" No," returned Humbug, "these are mere presump- 
tions. It is most probable that the man entered the crowd 
to steal; but the law punishes the crime, not the intention. 
It leaves room for hesitation, fear and remorse. If peo- 
ple were condemned for intention, what good man would 
not be subject to hanging, ten times in his life ? And 
besides, if you give the judge a right to read the soul of 
the accused, what is human justice but hypocritical des- 
potism ? It is no longer the guilty act which makes the 
offence, but the caprice or prejudice of the magistrate." 

" Happy country," exclaimed I, " where the law pro- 
tects the thief!" 

" It still better protects the innocent," rejoined Hum- 
bug. " With your inquisitorial system, who would es- 
cape private hatred or pohtical vengeance ? With your 
right of interpretation, what judge would not be exposed 
to error and repentance? Themis is blind, my good 
friend ; she does not see, she feels. If you wish her to 
act, throw into the balance an actual offence, something 
material, heavy, which will weigh down the scale; but pre- 
sumptions, intentions, vexatious memories, all these have 
no weight, ''Suiit verba et voces prmtereaque nihiV " 

At this moment, a sort of Hercules, clad as a police- 
man, entered the audience, carrying in his outstretched 
hand a little man, gesticulating like a devil in a font of 
holy water — I do not answer for the exactness of the 
comparison. The giant threw the dwarf with all his 
force into the prisoners' box ; then, readjusting his coat, 
10* 



226 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

the collar ot which was wrenched off, and wiping his 
scratched face : 

" Here is a man that has broken the public peace, your 
honor," said he. 

" Excuse me," said I to Humbug, " but you are not 
going to judge on the spot an act just committed outside 
the court?" 

"Why not?" asked the judge, surprised at my ques- 
tion. 

"The forms of law!" said I ; "begin- by putting the 
man in prison ; let the police enter upon an inquiry ; then 
lodge a complaint, proceed from this complaint to a cool 
and calm private examination, then investigate this ex- 
amination itself to leave room neither for error nor pas- 
sion. Take a fortnight, take a month, take three months, 
if need be ; time is nothing ; but observe the forms of 
law, they are the guaranties of liberty." 

" Be calm, doctor ; we are about to make an examina- 
tion in court, in public, with the country for witness. 
Such light dissipates all error and passion. 

" ' Adsum solem quis dicere falsarn 
Audeat.' 

"All the guaranties you demand, the accused will have, 
except the preliminary imprisonment, which I do not 
suppose that he insists on as much as you." 

"Well," said the policeman, "I came in from the 
country yesterday ; as I was making my first round this 
morning, this man ran towards me scared, out of breath, 
and as red as a beet. ' Policeman,' cried he, ' I have 
found you at last. Quick ! quick ! help, you are needed.' 
' What is the matter ?' said I. 'The matter!' said he, 
panting, 'the matter is that a horrible nmrder will be 



227 



committed if you do not put a stop to it. See that crowd 
yonder ; there is a man beating his wife with a great 
stick. Listen! they are crying assassin. Run quick, 
prevent a murder !' ' Which is the man ?' asked I. ' He 
is a little man,' said he, ' but he is savage.' ' Well,' said 
I, ' I have seen worse than he.' " 

" Be short," said Humbug. 

"I have almost done, your honor. I ran, I shoved 
aside the crowd which did not stir, and there was the 
man beating his wife on the head." 

" Did you arrest him ?" 

" No, your honor," said Hercules, scratching his ear 
and lowering his voice, " it was — it was Punch." 

" Go on," said Humbug, biting his lips, while the 
spectators and prisoner himself roared with laughter. 

" Well, your honor, I went back to my post a little 
vexed, naturally. And then came all the blackguards of 
the city, with this fellow at their head, all howling, 
' Policeman, you are wanted ! Murder ! murder ! Punch 
is killing Judy !' I said to myself, 'They have played a 
trick on me, the law does not forbid it, I have been 
caught ; no matter, one must pay for his apprenticeship.' 
I walked on at my usual pace as if nothing were the mat- 
ter, but this fellow, who seems as if he were paid to 
amuse the city, planted himself in front of me, with his 
arms folded, and shouted, ' I know you ; you are a 
thief and assassin !' ' I ?' I cried. ' Yes, you. Citizens, 
I take you all for witnesses and judges ; say if he has 
not killed an ourang outang to steal its face ?' " 

" ' Very well, sir,' said I ; ' each one has his turn ; this 
is an insult ; I have the law on my side. Come with me 
to the court.' He tried to run away, I caught him by 
the arm ; he answered me by a blow in the face with his 



228 PARIS IN AMEKICA. 

list ; upon Avhich I picked him up and brought him here 
without stopping. And here he is." 

The prisoner rose abashed, declared that he did not 
dispute the facts, and excused his resistance by saying 
that he did not think tliat he was committing a crime by 
playing a joke in the fashion of Punch. 

" You are mistaken, sir," replied Humbug, in a mocking 
tone. " If you were better acquainted with your w^orthy 
model, you would knovv^ that after each of his exploits he 
is imprisoned in a tightly-closed box. I shall be less 
severe towards you ; it will cost you only ten dollars' line, 
and ten dollars to repair the damage caused to this 
honest policeman. Thank him for his goodness ; had he 
shut his hand you would be dead." 

The little man drew some bank notes from a greasy 
pocket-book, which he handed with an ill grace to the 
clerk and went out sighing, saluted by the hootings of 
the crowd outside, who applauded the policeman. 
Goliath this time had beaten David ; it is true that he 
had the law on his side. 

After the knight of Mrs. Punch, the frequenters of the 
police court defiled before us — beggars, vagrants, drunk- 
ards, debauchees, fighters, swindlers, gamblers, and other 
thieves— every species of misery and vice. On seeing the 
rapid manner in which Humbug examined and judged 
each case, on seeing especially how the criminals ac- 
cepted without complaint an anticipated punishment, I 
became reconciled to the American mode of proceeding. 
The publicity of criminal examination might be indeed 
one of those modern discoveries which suppress time. 
By seizing the words of all the parties in their first 
warmth, instead of congealing them on a document 
which preserves neither the sound nor sense ; by bring- 



COURT. 229 

ing face to face accused, accusers, witnesses, and lawyers, 
the American judge condenses into a few moments the 
truth, which among us too often evaporates in a thousand 
channels, or grows cold to us. To do fair and prompt 
justice without encroaching on liberty — such is the prob- 
lem which these Yankees have resolved. Science has 
deceived us, chance has served them. 

Upon one point, nevertheless, some scruples remained 
to me. I asked Humbug if he were not dismayed at his 
power. To have in his hands the fortune, honor, and 
liberty of so many accused, to dispose of them alone was 
a terrible responsibility ; would he not rather divide it ? 

" No," replied Humbug, " the interest of justice is 
opposed to it. To form a tribunal of three or four per- 
sons is not to multiply the responsibility, but to divide 
it ; the accused thereby loses his best guaranty. Alone, 
and under the public eye, it seems to me that God is 
watching me ; I feel all the sanctity of the duty which I 
fulfill. The more comrades I have the less I believe 
myself pledged. What is a third, a fifth, a tenth of 
responsibility ? And if the judgment be iniquitous or 
cruel, who is public opinion to blame for it ?" 

" Nevertheless," said I, " see the jury." 

'* That is the example which I was about to quote to 
you," said he. " In this country the majority rules ; 
numbers in all things, make the law. Justice alone is 
exempt from this condition. The agreement of eleven 
jurors cannot take away either the life or honor of the 
accused ; the abstention of a single man sufiices to hin- 
der their verdict. Whence comes this ? Because there 
is a moral question involved here and not an arithmetical 
problem ; the voice which absolves has perhaps more 
weight than the eleven voices which condemn. Then 



230 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

too, what the legislator demands is not majority, but 
mianimity. "What he expects is not one responsibility- 
divided into twelve parts, but twelve responsibilities. 
You see that there is not here even the appearance of an 
exception ; it is the same rule, but strengthened — the 
unity of the judge, full and entire responsibility." 

This reasoning surprised me. I had always believed 
that the unanimity of the jury was one of those old rem- 
nants of feudal barbarism which amuse us at the expense 
of England, and make us better feel our superiority. 
Humbug disturbed the serenity of my faith. In vain I 
recalled the wise words of Montaigne, " Oh, what a sweet 
and soft pillow, and healthy one too, have ignorance and 
incuriosity to repose a well-balanced head on !" Doubt 
is like the rain, no traveller escapes it. Frenchmen! 
would you keep that legitimate pride, that just satisfac- 
tion in yourselves which makes your strength and glory, 
never lose sight of your weathercock ! 

A movement among the audience, followed by a pro- 
longed murmur, announced the arrival of an important 
personage. A corpulent man advanced majestically, his 
head erect and eyes half closed, panting at every step, 
and looking at no one. On reaching the plaintiff's table, 
he greeted Humbug with a familiar gesture and patroniz- 
ing smile. It was the banker Little, bearing on his puffy 
cheeks the insolence of his twenty millions. 

Behind him, two policemen brought a man of large 
stature, emaciated, with hollow cheeks and glittering 
eyes, looking like a gamester who has staked his life on 
a card and lost. He let himself fall on the prisoners' 
seat, and buried his face in his hands. 

" Sir," said the banker, " this morning this draft for 
two thousand dollars, which I lay on your desk, was pre- 



COURT. 231 

sented at my bank. My cashier, an intelligent lad — you 
know him, Humbug — not finding the payment noted on 
the bills-payable book, took it in his head to bring me the 
draft, despite the insignificance of the sum. The name 
of the drawer, the endorsements, my name, all are forged. 
Three similar drafts have been already presented this 
morning, but the holders took care not to leave them. It 
is a plot concocted among a band of swindlers. It was 
calculated that I would be chosen mayor ; that I Vv^ould 
be absent to-day, and that my cashier would not dare 
refuse drafts bearing my signature. I have seized this 
fellow ; it is for the law to discover his accomplices." 

*' Prisoner," said Humbug, " have you anything to an- 
swer ? Remember that all your words will be noted 
down and used against you. Reflect before you speak." 

" I have nothing to say at present," murmured the 
prisoner. 

" I am obliged, therefore, to transfer you to the crimi- 
nal court for the crime of forgery," said Humbug, in a 
pitying tone. " Can you furnish two securities for five 
thousand dollars each ? Otherwise, I shall be forced to 
remand you to prison." 

" I will try to find bail," replied the accused. 

" Very well. Go in a carriage with two policemen and 
see your friends. On your return, we will go with you 
to visit your books, and, if necessary, take other pre- 
cautions." 

" Do you think of leaving this forger at liberty ?" said 
I to Humbug. " He has accomplices ; he will warn 
them, and besides will make his escape." 

'- The law," replied the judge, "exacts imprisonment 
before trial only for crimes entailing capital punishment. 
In all others it is entrusted to the discretion of the magis- 



232 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

trate. Why would you have me take away from this 
man the means of defending himself, in order that he 
may appear in the criminal court as a victim, and that in- 
terest may be attached, not to the robbed but the robber ? 
Verifications, reports, inquiries will be necessary. Can 
all these be made blindly, in the absence of the prisoner ? 
Has not the accused a right to discuss and criticise all 
the charges accumulated against him ? Criminal exami- 
nation is not a penalty, it is a search for truth." 

" With your false humanity," exclaimed I, " you disarm 
society. I do not understand justice in this manner." 

" How do you understand it then ?" asked Humbug. 

" Permit me a comparison," replied I. " In societ}", 
as in a forest, there are birds of prey, and ravenous 
beasts — enemies to which the police and justice give con- 
tinual chase. The police tracks them, justice secures 
them. The magistrate, a skillful hunter, fells and de- 
stroys the execrable brood. Take bail for the wolf, offer 
a safe conduct to the fox ; you will see what will become 
of the lambs and chickens. To protect honest men is 
the first duty of justice. To evil doers it owes nothing 
but punishment and extermination." 

*' My dear friend," said Humbug, *' your jests are 
cruel. 

" ' Qusenam ista jocandi 
SaBvitia.' 

" If there are wolves among human beings, which I am 
far from denying, at least they have the same skin as the 
lambs. Before killing the brigand it is necessary to re- 
cognize him. This is a work which demands a more 
delicate hand than that of the hunter. Justice is, under 
another name, only society, the mother of all the citizens. 



233 



Until condemnation, she believes in the innocence of her 
children. This maternal confidence is not an idle word ; 
it is an active tenderness, which protects and sustains the 
j^risoner, without abandoning him for a moment. You 
believe, perhaps, that it is the jury that punishes the 
crime — undeceive yourself The examination is con- 
ducted among us in so broad, so full, so generous a man- 
ner that, to speak truly, it is the culprit who condemns 
himself and accepts the expiation. Observe our criminal 
courts ; you will see that what disarms the accused is 
the gentleness of our proceedings. Attacked, a man 
rebels ; insulted, he rails back. Pride and anger sustain 
the villain quite as much as the honest man ; but to jus- 
tify himself where facts alone accuse him, to set forth 
his conduct simply, to render an account of his action, is 
the privilege of innocence. Nothing dismays a criminal 
like feeling himself alone, face to face with himself, hav- 
ing for witnesses and judges the judge who protects him 
and the jury who listen to him. He oftenest ends by 
confessing his fault, or by shutting himself up in a silence 
which is an acknowledgment. What you call the weakness 
of our laws is what makes their virtue and beauties." 

" I comprehend nothing of your chimerical philan- 
thropy," I answered ; " it is not in this manner that 
justice is understood and practised " 

" At Kharkoff, among the Cossacks," interrupted 
Humbug, laughing ; " I believe it ; these people are not 
Christians." 

" They are Christians like myself," replied I ; 
"but'* 

" Good morning, your honor," cried a purple-faced 
man, whom two policemen were shutting in the box, 
with eyes starting from his head like those of a crawfish, 



234 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

and a hoarse and asthmatic voice ; "it is Paddy ; don't 
you know me ?" 

" Twice in four days ; this is too much," said Humbug, 
" Forgive me, your honor," said the prisoner, pointing 
to the policemen ; " it is these fellows' fault. They have 
no i3ity for the poor world. Yesterday, Sunday, I went 
out to take a quiet \yalk, with a bottle of gin in my fist, 
like a good Christian, who didn't want to go mad for 
lack of something to drink on Sunday. I met this great 
devil of a fellow yonder, and politely asked him the way 
to the hospital. * You have it in your hand,' says he. 
' This !' said I, holding up my bottle ; ' it is the comfort 
of my life.' ' It is your enemy,' says he. ' Well, well, 
policeman, we must love our enemies,' said I. Upon 
which I drank my own health, and ran against Patrick 
O'Shea, a son of green Erin, who hates all the Saxons. 
If you meet a friend on Sunday you must fight a little 
with him — this is a funny story, isn't it, your honor ? 
We hadn't begun to draw blood when the policeman 
put his hand on my shoulder. ' Have you three dollars ?' 
said he. ' No,' says I, ' there is a hole in my pocket, and 
my wife hasn't mended it yet.' ' If you have no money 
to pay the fine, why do you fight ?' says he. ' Police- 
man, you are right,' says I ; ' every one must amuse him- 
self according to his means.' So I went away, arm in 
arm with Patrick, in a friendly way. But Patrick began 
to bully me about the election — he is a Democrat. 
' Your judge isn't worth a fig,' says he (meaning you, 
your honor) ; ' as for the doctor, they say he's a conjurer !' 
Naturally, I shut his mouth with a blow of my fist ; he 
answered in the same way ; I put out my leg and threw 
him down. ' I will choke you,' says I, ' if you do DOt 
own it.' And I made him own it." 



COURT. 235 

" What ?" asked Humbug. 

" That you are worth a fig, and that the doctor isn't a 
conjurer." 

" Paddy," resumed Humbug, with a serious air, " we 
are obUged to you for your good ojDinion of us ; but 
your getting tipsy and fighting in the street will cost you 
ten dollars." 

" Ten dollars !" exclaimed the drunkard. " Where do 
you expect me to get it ?" 

" If you do not find it between now and to-morrow, 
five days' imprisonment will do as well." 

" And my wife and children ?" murmured Paddy. 

" You should have thought of them yesterday," ans- 
wered the judge ; " to-day, it is too late." 

" Pharisees !" exclaimed I, " at last I have you. You 
have two weights and measures. Thanks to his money, 
the rich man can indulge in all the vices ; while the poor 
man expiates in prison the only crime which you do not 
pardon — poverty. Is this equity ? For the same oflfence 
I admit only the same penalty ; shut up all the culprits, or 
shut up none. Justice is but another name for equality." 

" Happy logicians," said Humbug, " admirable leaders 
of the people ! it matters little to you if you kill liberty, 
provided you conduct it straight to perdition. When 
the Russian executioners put to death nobles and women 
under the knout, I suspect, subhme doctor of Kharkoff, 
that your heart leaped for joy, and you exclaimed, ' Glo- 
rious victory of equality !' " 

" No, no," said I, in my turn, " I abhor despotism ; I 
desire the equality which elevates, not that which de- 
grades; I demand that the serfs shall be treated like 
nobles, not the nobles like serfs." 

"Very well, my good friend," rejoined the judge, 



236 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

but it is here that the difficulty begins. There is always 
a point beyond which, unless you imitate Procrustes, the 
most skillful of logicians, you will never attain equality. 

" Our old Saxon laws, which you find harsh, and which 
I find just and gentle, always take care to treat liberty 
with circumspection. With the exception of atrocious 
crimes, they attack the purse and not the person of the 
culprit. If the true means of arresting the man drawn 
on by passion be to put before his eyes the responsibility 
which awaits him, nothing equals pecuniary penalties — 
believe it from experience. There are countries where 
adultery is a pretty trick ; breach of faith, a lawful 
amusement ; duelling, an exploit which does honor even 
to the villain. Among us, men do not seduce their 
neighbors' wives or daughters, or kill men to repair the 
injury which they have done them. Why ? For the 
very prosaic reason that they must pay fifteen or twenty 
thousand dollars for each of these amiable follies. No one 
cares to ruin himself to be the talk of the city, and to have 
the laugh against him in the bargain. 

*' Such is the law ; the custom of a thousand years has 
consecrated its force and wisdom. But what is to be 
done when the accused has nothing ? Are we to give to 
the poor the privilege of impunity ? are we to sacrifice 
liberty through love of uniformity? Our ancestors 
decided, and we have kept their maxim : Who caiinot 
pay icith Ms pochet^ must pay with his skin ; luat cum, 
corio. Among us, the fine is the rule, imprisonment the 
exception. Why? Because liberty is the principle; to 
speak truly, imprisonment is only a means of execution 
against an insolvent debtor. What do you see unjust in 
aU this ?" 

" I do not see equality in it," replied I. 



237 



" Well, doctor, you are blind. There are two species 
of equality — the one, which is unsuited to human socie- 
ties, is that material and brutal equality Avhich takes into 
account neither age, nor rank, nor fortune. The same 
penalties in unequal conditions is absolute equality and 
supreme injustice. The other equality is that which pro- 
portions the punishment, not to the definition of the 
oifence, which is only a word, but to the act itself and 
the person of the culprit. To the rich a heavy fine, 
to the poor a light fine, and in default of payment a 
few days' imprisonment — this is a law in which justice 
and veritable equality find their account no less than 
liberty." 

"Paddy!" exclaimed I, calling the drunkard, who 
raised towards me his great, wonder-struck eyes, " take 
these ten dollars; pay your fine, my good man ; go home 
and sin no more. This is my answer," said I, turning to 
Humbug ; " it is a protest against the iniquity of your 
laws." 

"It is the justification of their excellence," answered 
he. "If, through love of equality, we had established 
imprisonment as the penalty for drunkenness, what aid 
could you have given to this interesting victim ? The 
fine, on the contrary, has this great merit, that tender 
souls can always correct the harshness of our judgments; 
and, whatever legists may say, that stony-hearted race, 
when there is a struggle between charity and justice, it 
is well that charity should have the last word." 

"Thank you, doctor," cried Paddy, crushing my 
fingers in his hands, " I am going to drink your health. 
The first man who dares call you conjurer, by my faith, 
I will pummel him." 

"Here is a reformed manl" said Humbug. "Now 



238 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

if there is nothing more before us, we will adjourn the 
court." 

I returned with him to his office. We found the judge 
of the criminal court there, in great agitation. 

" I have been waiting for you," said he to Humbug ; 
"behold me in the greatest embarrassment. The jury- 
is assembled, and the attorney general is missing. He 
writes me that he is sick in bed, with such violent pain 
in the bowels that it is impossible to rise." 

"Bowels — an attorney general! It is improbable," 
exclaimed Humbug. 

"Do not laugh, my friend, but help me; give me 
some one to replace our public prosecutor." 

*' Take this precious Daniel," said Humbug, with diffi- 
culty restraining his laughter. " Here is the man you 
want. He is barrister and doctor in the university of 
Kharkoff ; he is a prodigy of gravity, inflexibility, legal- 
ity, and sentimentality. You have here, in a single per- 
son. Coke, Mansfield, Erskine, and all the rest." 

" Come quickly, sir," said the judge, taking me by the 
arm ; " you are my saviour." 

" Excuse me," said I. 

" No, no !" interrupted he, " I will listen to nothing. 
No false modesty ; you are a doctor, that is enough." 

At the same moment. Humbug seized me by the other 
arm ; I was dragged into the hall, presented to the jury, 
and installed, without having been able to breathe a 
word. Humbug placed himself near me, and, smiling at 
my misadventure, showed me, on the defendant's bench. 
Fox, stupefied, gazing at me, and winking his eyes. 

There was no retreat. Fate, which was mocking me, 
condemned me to play a new farce — The Attorney in 
Spite of Himself. 



AN ATTORNEY GENERAL. 239 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

AN ATTORNEY GENERAL. 

My dear reader, if ever a treacherous hand flung you 
into the water by surprise, without your knowing how 
to swim, you can form an idea of my deplorable situa- 
tion. I did not feel in a condition to say two consecu- 
tive words ; yet to withdraw would have been ridicu- 
lous. There would not have been hisses enough for me 
throughout the city. I resolved, therefore, to put a bold 
face on the matter, and to sustain my part to the end. 

Taking out my memorandum book, I tore from it 
some leaves, on which I wrote from memory a few of 
those fine phrases which mean nothing, but produce the 
best efiect, when opportunely thrown in a carefully pre- 
pared improvisation. Thus armed, I awaited the battle 
with the firmness of a soldier going to the fire, resolved 
to stand it. 

The first prisoner brought in was an execrable villain, 
who had slowly poisoned his wife, after having dictated 
a will to her ; the crime was flagrant, the proofs over- 
whelming, the wretch did not even attempt to defend 
himself. 

" I plead guilty," murmured he, in a trembling voice, 
with palhd face and wandering eye ; " let me die ; I ask 
only to be dehvered from life." 

There was a profound silence throughout the assem- 
bly. 

I rose majestically, put my quizzing glasses on my 



240 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

nose, coughed three times, and, holding my cards in my 
left hand while waving my right arm in cadence, I com- 
menced in a slow, deep voice : 

"Your Honoe and the Gentlemen of the Jury: 

" Nemo auditur perire volens — listen not to him who wishes 
to die— -is one of the great and salutary maxims bequeathed to 
us by the profound wisdom of our venerable ancestors — a wis- 
dom far superior to the insane science and proud reason of the 
generations of to-day. Nemo auditur perire volens is a maxim 
invented not only to protect the culprit against his own despair, 
but to secure to society the satisfaction of a legitimate ven- 
geance. 

" Yes, gentlemen, when an execrable crime has been commit- 
ted — when our admirable city, wholly rejuvenated by the splen- 
dor of those glorious structures which do infinite honor to the 
prodigious genius of our able and wise edileship — when, I say, 
our city, modern Eome, a thousand times more beautiful and 
greater than the Rome of the Caesars, awakens in the morning, 
terrified at the unexpected news of one of those horrible crimes 
which reveal unqualified depravity, the poisonous fruit of a sys- 
tem of civilization corrupted by revolutions and journalism — 
then, gentlemen, it is the duty of justice, which is ever on the 
watch, to accoraphsh a sacred mission — a mission as diflacult as 
imposing. In default of ready speech, in default of that magis- 
terial eloquence, the appanage of so many of my illustrious col- 
leagues, whom I refrain from naming to spare their too great, 
modesty, magistrates inspired at least by their conscience, bring 
within these walls their forcible conviction, their humble but 
firm devotion to the cause of order, the laws, and society. 

"Here, gentlemen of the jury, here is oflfered a great and 
glorious spectacle ; here begins, in all its details, a tragedy, 
painful doubtless to honest men, but necessary to the expiation 
of crime, and to the edification of the whole country. In this 
appalling drama, debauchery is the prologue ; covetousness, end- 
ing in poison, forms the second act ; public trial, by its marvel- 



AN ATTOENEY GENERAL. 241 

ous adroitness, precipitates events, and we arrive, through it, 
to the fatal and speedy denouement. This avenging denoue- 
ment, gentlemen of the jury, is in your hands ; your verdict is 
not doubtful. Crushed beneath the weight of his fault, van- 
quished by justice, the culprit has confessed all ; yonder he 
stands before you, weighed down, overwhelmed- with remorse; 
his condemnation is written on his villainous forehead, as it is 
written in your noble hearts. 

"Let him not believe that this forced confession can free him 
from the shame which he deserves. In vain he turns aside his 
guilty head, in vain he puts away from his impure lips the 
bitter cup which his execrable crime has prepared for him ; the 
law, blind and mute, the law, justly inexorable, the law, divinely 
pitiless, decrees that he shall drink his heinous crime to the 
dregs. His torture is the punishment of the past and the lesson 
of the future." 

"Enough, for God's sake, enough," said Humbug, 
pulling the skirt of my coat. " lies sacra ?mser, my 
good friend." 

" Leave me alone," said I with a gesture of im- 
patience. " The prosecution has nothing to do with 
humanity." 

" On us," continued I, becoming animated, " on us, the 
minister of the public prosecution of crime ; on us, the 
representative of outraged authority ; on us devolves the 
painful but sacred duty of silencing the beatings of our 
human heart ; to us it belongs to stir this mire and to 
surmount unconquerable disgust ; to us " 

Imprudent man ! in a magnificent gesture, I raised my 
arms and opened both hands, when lo ! all my papers fell 
to the ground and my eloquence with them ; I stooped 
to pick up the whole together, the prisoner profited by 
this unlucky chance, and rising abruptly. 

11 



242 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

" Your honor," said he, " how long will you suffer the 
attorney general to play with me like a cat with a 
mouse ? The law says that you are the protector of the 
accused ; Avhy do you let me be insulted in my wretched- 
ness ? I expect my sentence, what is the need of pro- 
longing my torture ?" 

" He is right," said an unmannerly juror ; " we are 
here to do justice, not to hear a sermon." 

I was about to speak ; the judge stopped me with a 
gesture and, covering his head, he purely and simply pro- 
nounced the condemnation of the prisoner and the sen- 
tence of death. No summing up, no impressive words, 
no lesson given either to the prisoner, or the jury, or the 
public, nothing to add to the solemnity of this scene pal- 
pitating with interest. On the contrary, with a famili- 
arity in bad taste, he began to negotiate with the 
culj^it. 

" Prisoner," said he, " henceforth you have nothing to 
expect from the mei-cy of man ; it only remains for you 
to make your peace with God. How many days do you 
need to settle your affairs and become reconciled with 
your conscience ?" 

" Three days will be enough," replied he ; " I am in 
haste to have it over." 

■'Well," resumed the judge, "in five days, reckoning 
fi'om the present moment, you will appear before the 
only judge who can pardon you." 

The condemned bowed respectfully to the judge, and 
went out, casting on me a glance Avhich troubled me. 
Had I not done my duty ? Is pity due even to as- 
sassins ?" 

The second prisoner was brought in. He was an im- 
pudent knave who, released from the State prison two 



AN ATTORNEY GENERAL. 243 

days before, had rendered himself guilty of burglary, 
robbery, and attempted assassination. He had broken 
into a house at Montmorency, threatened an unfortunate 
servant maid who kept the house, and taken everything, 
even to the carriage and horses. 

The face of this rogue was enough to condemn hirn. 
It was villainy personified. We beheld a man to whom 
society was only an enemy, and who had as much con- 
tempt for the law as hatred for the magistrate — in a 
word, one of those wild beasts which we must slay if we 
would not have them devour us. 

" Prisoner," said the judge, " do you plead guilty or 
not guilty ?" 

" That is a pretty question," answered the burglar 
with audacious nonchalance. " Guilty or not guilty ? 
Neither you nor I know until we have heard the wit- 
nesses." 

" Gentlemen of the jury," exclaimed I, " what need 
is there of hearing further ? Lay hold of this confes- 
sion. Did an innocent man ever hesitate for an instant 
to proclaim his non culpability ? None but a profes- 
sional villain would have this effrontery. Look at the 
wretch ; is not crime written on his impudent face ?" 

" I protest againt this theory," cried the counsel of the 
prisoner. 

His squeaking voice made me start — once more mock- 
ing fortune opposed to me Fox, my eternal enemy. 

" Yes," continued he, " I protest and I will always 
protest against a doctrine which has never been received 
in the courts of free America. You have no right to 
torture the words of a prisoner to turn them to his con- 
viction. You have no right to interpret his mien, his 
gesture, the tone of his language in evidence of his gmlt. 



244 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

If it were permitted to invoke these deceitful signs which 
passion explains as it pleases, who would escape the elo- 
quence of attorney generals ? Is the accused silent ? it is 
because remorse overwhelms him ; silence is confession. 
Does the accused protest calmly ? it is effrontery ; effron- 
tery is confession. Does he fly m a j^assion and rail ? he is 
an insolent fellow who outrages justice ; insolence is con- 
fession. Weakness, energy, humility, pride, tears, anger, 
all is confession to prejudiced minds who see only one 
side. Ah ! gentlemen, begin by establishing the physical 
characteristics of virtue and crime. When science shall 
have realized the dreams of Lavater, you can condemn 
men by their countenance ; until then leave to fortune- 
tellers this perfidious and dangerous art. Justice knows 
nothing but facts, discusses nothing but facts, decides on 
nothing but facts. Therein is its security and greatness. 
Let Mr. Attorney General keep his talent for a better 
occasion — we will proceed to hear the witnesses." 

" Your honor," cried I, " it is through respect to the 
court that I have endured the impertinence of these 
words to the end; an attorney general does not need to 
receive lessons from the counsel ; I require" 

"Be calm, sir," interrupted the magistrate; "every- 
thing is permitted the defence except abuse ; the words 
of the honorable counsel have in no wise transcended the 
right of his function. As to his doctrine, it is what our 
precedents have sanctioned. You will find these princi- 
ples, which I do myself the honor to profess, in all our 
authorities." 

I fell on my seat like a thunderstruck Titan. The 
judge become the apostle of theories which sink the 
prosecution to the level of the defence ! The judge a 
deserter from our ranks, and become the accompHce of 



AN ATTOENEY GENEKAL, 245 

the counsel ! It was a last stroke ! If this is what the 
Yankees call justice, I have no more knowledge of it. 
Travel throughout civilized Europe, you will see no- 
thing like it. 

" Very well," said the excellent Humbug to me, to 
restore me a little courage ; " you speak like a senator, 
only with too much zeal. Moderate yourself, my good 
friend ; you will produce more elFect." 

I was not at the end of my surprise. The witnesses 
were called. I expected that the judge alone would inter- 
rogate them in concert with myself Vain ho]3e ! The 
judge was an impassive statue. Opposite him, the accused 
kept the same silence. When I attempted to question 
him, a general outcry taught me that, according to Yan- 
kee law, there was favor only for knaves. To see the 
magistrate and prisoner, both mute and motionless, one 
w^o^Jd have said that, strangers to what was passing in 
the court, they were the judges of the combat. The 
* combatants, or rather victims, were the witnesses, given 
over to the mercy of the counsel, interrogated, contra- 
dicted, blamed, harassed, by a man without public 
character, and who had no other claim than that of 
defending the doubtful innocence of a knave grown old 
in crime. In this subversion of all received ideas, the 
accused might have been taken for a witness, the wit- 
nesses for the accused. 

One of the questions asked by Fox appeared to me so 
impertinent, that I objected to the witness's replying to 
it. 

" By what right ?" exclaimed Fox, furious. 

" You forget," said I, " that I have no account to ren- 
der to you; I am the representative of the state." 

" What new chimera is this ?" returned he, with his 



24:6 .:. PARIS TN AMERICA. 

habitual insolence. "There is no state within these 
walls. There is no room here exce^Dt for justice, admira- 
bly represented by the impartiality of the magistrate and 
the wisdom of the jury. You are a lawyer, like me ; 
nothing more. I represent the defendant, you represent 
the plaintiff, to whom society gives you as support. You 
have no right which does not belong to me, I have no 
privilege which you may not claim. If it were otherwise, 
the balance of justice would be perverted — the prosecu- 
tion would be stronger than the defence. What would 
become of the liberty of the citizen ?" 

"Your honor," said I, "is this also one of the theories 
sanctioned by your precedents ?" 

" Mr. Attorney General," replied he, in a grieved tone, 
"what you ask astonishes me. In a free country, can 
there be a question as to the equality of the prosecution 
and the defence ?" 

I had nothing to do but to be silent ; I let Fox torture 
the witnesses at his ease. One thing alone consoled me. 
There is no abuse which, by the side of a thousand incon- 
veniences, does not carry with itself some small advan- 
tage. Accustomed from childhood to the rude ordeals 
of public life, the witnesses did not suffer themselves to 
be intimidated by the harshness of the questions which 
were addressed them. In this duel of words. Fox had 
not always the best of it. It is true that his skin was 
tough ; he rose each time with new fury. Never was 
the liberty of a man defended with more desperate 
energy. Among the witnesses figured Seth the Quaker, 
an important personage at Montmorency in his capacity 
of hotel-keeper. Seth bore a grudge against the lawyer, 
for his reverse of the morning, and answered him with 
a malice which made me smile in spite of my ill humor. 



AN ATTORNEY GENERAL. 24:7 

" Do you know the defendant ?" asked Fox. 

" Yes," said the Quaker, " I know him, to his misfor- 
tune and mine." 

" Dare you affirm, under oath, that he is a dishonest 
man ?" 

" I have never said that he could be accused of being 
an honest man," repUed friend Seth, with the greatest 
placidity. 

" What interest had he in stealing a carriage and 
horses ?" 

" None, that I know of," said the Quaker. " He 
would have done better to have bought them and not 
paid for them, after the example of honorable gentlemen. 
Perhaps he had not as much credit as they." 

After the hotel-keeper, it was the servant-maid's 
turn — a plump blonde, with a frank and merry air, but 
sharp as a needle, like every country girl. 

" You pretend," said the lawyer, " that you recognize 
the defendant, and affirm that he has threatened you in 
a language more than improper ?" 

"Yes, sir,'' murmured she, blushing. 

" Speak louder," said Fox ; " the gentlemen of the jury 
cannot hear you." 

" I cannot," said she, much agitated. 

" You can ; do like me ; shout." 

'' You ? That is a different thing ; it is your trade. 
You were brought up to it from a child." 

" You affirm," continued Fox, " that the defendant has 
made use of abominable words — so abominable, gentle- 
men of the jury, that modesty hinders me from repeating 
them in public." 

" Yes, sir," said the poor girl, blushing more and 
more. 



248 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

"Very well; repeat these words to the court and 
jury." 

"Sir," said she, straightening herself up, "if your 
modesty does not permit you to repeat them, how can 
you imagine that mine permits me ?" 

" Very well," replied Fox, without being disconcerted, 
" the jury will take note. You say that the defendant 
spoke like an impudent fellow. Do you know how an 
impudent fellow speaks ?" 

" I think I do," said she, looking at the lawyer in such 
a way that the assembly burst out laughing, and Fox 
abandoned the witness. 

The list of witnesses exhausted, I addressed the court. 
Indignation rendered me eloquent ; I felt it, and aban- 
doned myself to the pleasure of declaiming. In a speech 
which deserved to be phonographed, I gave the complete 
history of this robber. I seized him in the cradle, and 
did not let him go until he reached the court, where he 
was about to receive his just punishment. First, I 
painted him at three years old, as one of those detestable 
children which have never given their mother a moment's 
joy ; then I accompanied him to school, and showed him 
idle, lying, quarrelsome, and preluding the gallows by 
stealing nuts and plums from the trees by the way. 
By unheard-of good fortune, I had found among the 
witnesses three honest comrades, who, twenty-five years 
before, had played the marauder with this future villain. 
From the school I passed to the workshop, and drew 
there a horrible portrait of this man, which must have 
resembled him. I uttered a tirade against drunkenness, 
that criminal poison, which carried away the audience. 
"When I had gone through ten years of crime, the de- 
fendant was already destroyed in the opinion of the jury. 



AN ATTORNEY GENERAL. 249 

After my discourse, if there was any reason for astonish- 
ment, it was that at fifteen he had not killed his father. 
That this profligate had a soul capable of parricide, I did 
not doubt, as I said to the jury, but heaven had spared 
him the greatest of all crimes — the wretch had the hap- 
piness to be an orphan ! 

AYhile the audience was suspended on my eloquent 
lips, I looked at the prisoner, who was writhing under 
the lash of my avenging words. Crushed by my re- 
proaches, imable to resist his violently awakened remorse, 
he rose, and, interrupting me : 

" Your honor," exclaimed he, in a husky voice, " if 
this is to last much longer, I have enough of it ; I own 
myself guilty. I had rather serve my five years, than 
listen to this fellow." 

" Stop ! " cried Fox. " What are you thinking of? 
Take back these fatal words." 

" No, no," said he ; " this fellow drives me mad ; I 
would give my head to shut his mouth." 

*' Prisoner," said the judge, " reflect before making a 
declaration which destroys you. Consider that, if you 
coolly repeat this avowal, I have nothing to do but to 
pronounce your conviction." 

" Your honor," returned he, " I am obliged to you ; 
you are a worthy magistrate ; you do not trample on a 
poor worm of the earth in difficulty. How can it be 
helped ? I have no chance ; let me fall which way I will, 
I am sure to land on my head. After all, I have stolen ; 
let justice take its course. But as to what I said to my 
mother, or what I did when I was an urchin at school, 
it is my opinion that it is none of this fellow's business." 

My victory was complete, vanquished by my elo- 
quence more than his remorse, the culprit confessed his 
11* 



250 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

crime. To crown my happiness, Fox, whose audacious 
language I dreaded, could no longer answer me. Force 
remained to justice and authority. 

The session ended, one of the judges came and shook 
me by the hand. He was a celebrated orator, a mind 
full of resources, who had more than once in Congress 
beaten his adversaries Avhen they were in the right. 
Such approbation added to my triumph ; therefore, it 
was with ill dissembled joy that I received these glorious 
congratulations. 

" I am charmed with your ingenious discovery," said 
my new friend. " On the first opportunity, I hope to 
imitate you, and to be no less haj^py than yourself. To 
take a man from birth, to seize vice, error and jDrejudice 
in the germ, and describe and interpret their long devel- 
opment, is admirable. I imagine that no one could come 
out intact from this historical review ; with your method 
of proceeding, I would guarantee to demonstrate that 
Cato was a profligate and Socrates an atheist." 

" I have invented nothing," said I, modestly ; " you 
flatter me." 

" No," said he ; " never, in this country, has any one 
reasoned in this subtle manner. It is a new logic which 
does you the greatest honor. The Yankees are a rude 
people, who pursue the crime and not the man ; while to 
you the material part is nothing, the man is everything. 
There is no sufficient proof of the crime of which he is 
accused — what matters it, so long as he is capable of 
committing it ? the presumption is against him, and 
moreover it is probable he has been guilty of many 
others. This is what I call fliir justice, justice which 
protects society and is anxious only for the public good. 
Are you American by birth ?" 



AN ATTORNEY GENEKAL. 251 

" This abrupt question astonishes you," continued he, 
without divining the cause of my surprise. "Excuse 
my indiscretion ; my mother was French, and I owe to 
her certain ideas which never entered a Saxon brain. 
These ideas nearly approach yours, and inspire me with 
the most lively sympathy for the originality of your 
talent. 

*'To me, for instance, the state is everything; and 
despite the stupid prating of ignorant moralists, I main- 
tain that the interest of a whole nation cannot be weighed 
in the balance with the pretended right of an obscure 
individual ! I am a socialist in the best sense of the 
word — the state before the individual! The Yankees, 
on the contrary — contracted minds, narrow brains — have 
brought from England an egotistical and savage preju- 
dice. Let a judge fail in respect towards an old gipsy, 
let an attorney general lose patience in prosecuting a 
pickpocket or brow-beating an assassin, directly a Saxon 
arises from the earth to proclaim above the house tops 
that the Magna Charta is violated and humanity out- 
raged ; and, lo ! an imbecile crowd runs at the voice of 
the barker and howls after the magistrate, like dogs after 
a horse on full gallop. It might be called a nation of 
thieves, each one of which is afraid of appearing himself 
in court to-morrow, and defends the liberty of others 
through interest for his own liberty. Thanks to the 
solidity of my principles, I do not understand justice in 
this wise ; I see with pleasure that in America, we are 
both of the same opinion. Saints do not appear before 
the juiy, and I had rather send three innocent men to 
the gallows, than suffer twenty villains to escape. I am 
a clear-headed man ; let us shake hands on it ; together 



252 PARIS IN a:mekica. 

we will reform the education of this monotonous people 
which has but one word in its mouth — liberty!" 

He took leave of me, shaking my hand in the most 
cordial manner ; I did not return his warmth ! Strange 
to say ! his praises no longer pleased me ; I was appalled 
at my success. 

" What if I have gone too far !" thought I. " What 
if I have suiFered myself to be carried away by the ardor 
of pursuit, like a hunter who listens only to his passion. 
I have not been in error, since the culprit has confessed 
his crime ; but were the weapons which I used legiti- 
mate ? Is everything lawful to the prosecution ? Has 
the defendant no right to respect V 

Despite myself, these thoughts agitated me. The idea 
of public vengeance no longer sufficed me, I vaguely 
caught a glimpse of a purer doctrine, a doctrine which 
subjected human justice to the precepts of the Gospel. 
I said to myself that to Christians, all weakness is holy, 
all misery sacred, and that with the child, the woman, 
the poor, and even the guilty, the authority ought to 
distrust its power, and fear to be too much in the right. 



DINAH. 253 



CHAPTER XXV. 

DINAH. 

On quitting the court room, I found the Quaker, who 
congratulated me on my adroitness ; this compliment 
gave me indifferent pleasure. Humbug, on the contrary, 
said nothing ; I should have preferred his reproaches ; I 
believe that, at this moment, his anger would have done 
me good. 

Fox was awaiting me in the street ; his contracted fea- 
tures and flashing eyes betrayed a passion which he 
could no longer contain. 

" You ought to be satisfied," cried he, as soon as he 
perceived me. " This is a victory which does you honor. 
I hope not to be the last to render you justice. A jour- 
nal will soon be found to glorify the eloquence and doc- 
trine of the attorney general. A Jeffries in America is a 
monster never before seen, and that will never be seen 
again — we must make haste to admire him. 

" Besides," added he, gnashing his teeth, furious at my 
silence, " this scarcely surprises me. None are so cruel 
as those who have domestic troubles ; they are a race 
without pity." 

" Domestic troubles !" said I, shrugging my shoulders. 
" You have lost your reason, Mr. Fox ; you do not know 
to whom you are speaking." 

" Indeed," answered he, sneering, " I thought that I 
was speaking to the happy father of the too amiable 
Susan." 



254: PAKIS m AMERICA. 

The face of the man appalled me ; his diabolical lauo-h- 
ter chilled me to the heart. 

" Be silent," said I ; " I forbid you to utter a name 
which all should respect." 

" Bah !" said he, with a disdainful smile ; *' this is ill- 
placed severity." 

" Wretch !" exclaimed I, seizing him by the throat, 
" explain yourself, or I will crush you on the spot." 

" Gentlemen," said the lawyer, struggling, *' I call 
you to witness this violence. Mr. Humbug, you will do 
me justice !" 

" Without any doubt," replied the magistrate. " Sue 
for damages for this rather hasty answer, and I Avill give 
you a dollar. But if the doctor claims three or four 
thousand dollars from you, in turn, I will not spare 
you a farthing. It will be a pleasure to me to punish 
slander." 

" Slander !" cried Fox, foaming with rage. " Where 
does this precious damsel, whose name cannot be spoken, 
go every day ? Is it my fault that I see her every morn- 
ing, on my way to court, gliding mysteriously into one 
of the most disreputable houses of the city ? Who can 
the honorable daughter of the honorable attorney gene- 
ral visit in the notorious Laurel street ? I saw her go in 
there a few hours since ; I suppose that she is still there, 
for usually she makes a long stay. Sue me for slander, 
doctor, it will be an amusing scandal ; I shall be 
avenged !" 

I fell into Humbug's arms. My daughter insulted, my 
Susan defamed ! — the blow was too much for a father ; I 
could not see, my whole frame trembled, I was suffocat- 
ing with sorrow and anger. At last I wept ; tears of 
rage and despair, which, without allaying my trouble, 



DINAH. 255 

restored to me some dominion over my senses and per- 
mitted me to speak. 

" Sir," said I to Fox, " Laurel street is two paces from 
here ; you shall follow me there. Humbug, come with 
me. Mr. Seth, do not quit me. Above all, do not let 
that man escape. Justice must be done ; it shall be done." 

" Be easy, friend Daniel," re^DHed the Quaker, " we 
will all three accompany thee." He dwelt on the last 
words, all three^ eyed the lawyer from head to foot, 
and, rolling up his sleeves, began to cleave the air Avith 
a horsewhip which he held in his hand. 

" Gentlemen," said Fox, with a sardonic laugh, " I am 
at your orders. Observe, I beg, that I have nothing to 
do with a movement which a certain person may regret. 
There is still time to pause ; I am not cruel ; but I warn 
you that, once in this house, whatever may be your 
prayers and tears, I shall only quit it with the firm reso- 
lution to tell all that I have seen there." 

" Let us go, sir," said I, " I do not want your pity." 
I advanced like a drunken man, clinging to the arm of 
Humbug. Suspect thee, my Susan ! I could not ; I be- 
lieved in thy purity as in that of the angels ; but the 
assurance of this man troubled me. I feared an unfore- 
seen stroke, an ambush, a snare. Alas ! when one loves, 
he has courage only for himself. 

" Here is the house," cried Fox'; " and here is the 
landlord." 

I raised my head ; the house had a forbidding appear- 
ance. A dark and damp entry, grimy walls, window- 
panes broken or replaced by bits of paper, or rags stuffed 
into the windows — it was more than poverty, it was the 
squalor and filth of vice. Susan in this den! it was 
impossible. 



256 " PARIS m AMERICA. 

On the door-step was a man, his coat unbuttoned and 
hands in his pockets, smoking a pipe and gazing at the 
passers with all the insolence of an idle vagabond. On 
seeing us, he took off his shapeless hat, and, flinging 
himself on me, seized both my hands with an affection 
which filled me with horror. It was Paddy, half drunk, 
smelling of rum and tobacco. 

" Good morning, my saviour," said he ; " you are very 
good to come to see a friend. Come in, gentlemen ; if 
you are not afraid of a glass of gin, you will find some 
one to help you drink it." 

" Paddy," said I, " does this house belong to you ?" 

" No, my saviour," answered he, laughing ; " if this 
palace had been mine, I should have drunk it up long ago. 
It is my wife's — a fine business, isn't it ?" 

" Do you let furnished rooms ?" said I, pointing to a 
bill. 

" At your service, doctor." 

" Whom do you lodge in this house ?" asked Humbug, 
in a harsh tone. " Frequenters of my court ?" 

*' Your honor," said the drunkard, yawning, " we are 
not rich enough to be nice ; we take what we can get, 
and get virtue when we can." 

" Who lives in the apartments on the first floor ?" said 
the lawyer, with a cunning air. 

"What is that ^o you, chatterbox?" replied the 
drunkard. " Do you pay for them ?" 

" Answer," said Humbug ; " do not forget that you 
are before a magistrate." 

" I have nothing to be afraid of," said the Irishman, 
excited. " You know, your honor, that none but honest 
people would live in apartments at three dollars a week, 
paid in advance. A lady lives on the first floor, a pretty 



DINAH. 257 

lady," added he, loweiing his voice, "gentle, polite, and 
not 2:)articular ; the pearl of the house." 

" What visitors does she have?" continued Humbug, 
who saw me turn pale, 

" Excuse me, your honor, we are not in court. Amer- 
ica is a free country, where every one sees whom he likes, 
so long as he pays for it. I never look at the people who 
come in the door; if I look at them, I do not see them." 

"Don't pretend ignorance," said Fox. "Remember 
that I have put more than one better man than you in 
prison. An hour ago, I saw a young lady, with light 
hair and blue eyes, in a black silk dress and straw hat, 
come in here ; where did she go ?" 

Paddy, intimidated, drew near me to implore my aid. 

" My good fellow," said I, " oblige me by answering. 
Be sure that we have no bad intentions ; I will reward 
you." 

" My saviour," said he, "I have no secrets from you ; 
you have helped me out of difficulty, and I am an Irish- 
man — that says everything. I would go through the 
fire for you." 

" In heaven's name, speak !" said I, giving him some 
money. " You are killing me !" 

" Well, doctor," resumed he, " every day, at the same 
hour, this young lady with light hair comes to see the 
lady on the first floor. She is there now." 

" I think that my presence is useless," said Fox, in an 
ironical tone ; " the attorney general has no more occa- 
sion for my services " 

" Sir," said I, with a threatening gesture, " I wish to 
confound your unworthy suspicions." 

Alas ! I spoke thus to deceive myself; I knew no 
longer what to say ; I was desperate. Humbug took me 



258 PAJRIS IN AMERICA. 

by the hand. I entered the cavern like a man on his 
way to encounter death. 

The door of the rooms stood open. There was an 
antechamber, a sort of kitchen, without curtains or fur- 
niture. I jDaused to regain breath ; I heard the beatings 
of my heart. Seth assured himself that the lawyer had 
followed us, then closed the door noiselessly and put the 
key in his pocket. We had nothing more to fear from 
intruders. 

I was unable to speak ; I signed to my companions to 
remain where they were, and glided noiselessly to the 
entrance of the next room. 

Opposite, her back towards me, a woman was half 
reclining in an old easy-chair ; a little girl was seated on 
a rush-bottomed stool at her feet. By the side of the 
child, Susan, Bible in hand, was reading to her attentive 
listeners : 

" Thej cast iniquity upon me, and in their wrath they hate 
me. 

" My heart is sore pained within me, and the terrors of death 
are fallen upon me. 

" Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror 
hath overwhelmed me. 

"And I said, Oh, that I had wings like a dove! for then 
would I fly away, and be at rest. 

" Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in solitude. 

" I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tem- 
pest. 

"Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he shall sustain thee." 

*' Oh, my Susan !" exclaimed the stranger, '' next to 
God, you have saved my life. How much good these 
words do me ! You, at least, have not forsaken me." 



DINAH. 259 

" And me — do you forget me, then ?" asked the child. 

" No, my dear little one," retm-ned the young woman, 
" yet none but you missed me at Sunday school ; and 
who remembers me in my family ?" 

The child threw herself on her teacher's neck, and the 
three embraced each other, weeping. 

Is there contagion in tears ? Was emotion too strong 
for me ? I know not ; but, whether from pain or plea- 
sure, I could not restrain my sobs. 

" My father !" exclaimed Susan, " you here ! By what 
chance do you come ?" 

" My dear," said I, clasping her to my heart, and 
using my handkerchief furiously to hide my red eyes, 
" fathers are curious beings ; they are not sorry, some- 
times, to know where their children go." 

" Curiosity is a bad fault," said Susan, holding up her 
finger threateningly. " A well brought up father would 
say to his daughter, ' My dear, will you permit me to 
accompany you V and, without waiting to be urged, the 
lady would take her father's arm, as I do ; she would 
bring him to a poor young woman in need of aid, and 
would say to him, with a graceful bow, ' Dr. Smith, I 
entreat your friendship for my dear Dinah.' " 

" Sir," said the unknown, taking my hands, " bless 
her ; she is my saving angel." 

She rose as she spoke ; the smile returned to her pale 
face, when suddenly she uttered a cry of terror, and fell 
back in her chair, hiding her face. 

The Quaker stood before her, his arms folded, with an 
air of fury. 

" Pardon, brother," murmured the unhappy woman ; 
*' have pity on me." 

" Is it in this manner that thee keeps thy word ?" said 



260 PAEIS IN AMEEICA. 

Seth. " Thy mother believes thee on the way to Cali- 
fornia ; she blessed thee when thee left ; must she take 
back her blessing ?" 

" Seth," said the young woman, drowned in tears, " I 
set out; my courage failed me; I cannot leave my mother 
and those who love me." 

" Say, rather, that thee cannot leave him, and must 
destroy thyself." 

" No, no," cried she, " I am leading an honest life ; he 
does not know that I am here ; he will never know it. I 
have seen no one but my good Susan." 

" And what does thee expect to do ?" resumed the 
Quaker, with a harshness which pained me. " Thee 
knows that there is no more bread for thee at home." 

" Seth," replied she, '' do not crush me ; I shall not be 
a burden on you. Susan has found me a place as school- 
mistress in the suburbs, where no one will know me. I 
shall live by my labor. I ask nothing of you, but to go 
once a week to embrace my mother and see our house." 

Nothing is more embarrassing in family scenes than 
the jDresence of a third person. I withdrew with Hum- 
bug, when, at the back of the antechamber, in a dark 
corner, I perceived Fox, in contemplation before a smoky 
engraving. It was a picture oi Monarchy son oi JEclipse, 
the winner of the Derby in 1812. To confound an evil 
doer, and enjoy his confusion, is a double pleasure ; I had 
no scruples, therefore, in rallying the slanderer. 

"I did not think that you had so great. a passion for 
the turf," said I, "At fifty years' distance, that the 
laurels of Monarch should silence the most celebrated 
lawyer of Massachusetts is marvelous ! It ought to be 
put in the newspapers." 

" For pity's sake, doctor," said he, " let me go." 



DINAH. 261 

His face was so much changed, his voice so weak, that 
in truth it pained me. I had not believed him capable of 
so much remorse. " See," thought I, " how wrongly men 
are judged. It is imagined that lawyers feel only on 
others' account — what a mistake !" 

I was about to re-enter the apartment to ask Seth for 
the key, w^hich he had kept, when the Quaker suddenly 
appeared, dragging after him his sister, her hair dishev- 
elled, then contemptuously casting her from him. Susan 
wept bitterly; Humbug endeavored to interpose some 
kind words ; we were all moved ; Fox alone had resumed 
his admiration for Monarch ; motionless and mute, he 
seemed to wish to bury himself in the wall. 

" Once more," cried the Quaker, endeavoring to force 
open the clenched hands which clung to his coat, " once 
more I repeat to thee thy mother's words, * Thee sliall 
never return home but in the arms of a husband.' Since 
this fine stranger has promised thee marriage, make him 
keep his word." 

"Here is a suit in prospective," exclaimed I. " Come, 
happy avenger of innocence — come, master Fox — this is 
the moment to show yourself" 

If a thunderbolt had fallen at my feet, it would have 
terrified me less than the outbreak which followed my 
impertinent pleasantry. Scarcely had Dinah raised her 
eyes to the lawyer, than she sprang up as if mad, laugh- 
ing and weeping together. 

" Gabriel ! " cried she, " my Gabriel ! Here he is, 
brother ; here he is !" 

I understood nothing of the storm which I had let 
loose ; the Quaker was more intelHgent. While Dinah 
threw herself on the neck of her Gabriel, Seth wound 
the lash of his horsewhip two or three times round his 



262 PASIS IN AMERICA. 

wrist, and, approaching Fox, who turned pale at the 
sight : 

" Friend," said he, in a tone far from reassuring, " col- 
lect and explain thyself; I am waiting." 

Between the caresses of the sister and the threats of 
the brother, the lawyer presented a piteous appearance, 
which quite elated me. The natural man is a malicious 
animal ; nothing less than the Gospel could make us love 
our enemies. 

Humbug was a better Christian than I. 

" Gentlemen," said he, in a grave but mild voice, " I 
think that my turn has come. In an affair as delicate as 
this, the last word belongs to the magistrate : 

" ' Nee Deus intersit, nisi dignns vindice nodus 
Incident.' 

" My dear Fox, I do not doubt your intentions. If 
any one should ask your advice in like circumstances, 
you would doubtless answer, that a suit for breach of 
promise would be followed by the most serious conse- 
quences to a lawyer, involving not only the loss of for- 
tune, but the destruction of practice, and perhaps even 
the necessity of leaving the country. Is not this your 
opinion ?" 

" Yes," murmured Fox, sighing. 

"Need I add," continued the excellent Humbug, 
throwing a rope to the drowning man, " need I add, that 
a man like you has no occasion to trouble himself about 
these considerations, however grave they may be ? It 
suffices for him to have given his word to keep it ; is it 
not so?" 

"Yes," said the lawyer, sighing anew, "I have always 
loved Dinah ; I was checked by difficulties." 



DINAH. 263 

"Which no longer exist," interrupted Humbug. "We 
are all agreed. The affair will end like all good plays — 
love, tears, and crosses in the first act, with marriage for 
the denouement." 

Fox embraced Dinah rather ungraciously, and gave 
his hand to the Quaker; Dinah, flushed with pleasure, 
ran to Susan. 

" My dear friend," said she, " it is to you that I owe 
my happiness. And to you, too, my child," said she to 
the little one, who was pale with jealousy. 

" All this is very well," said Seth, who never lost him- 
self in the clouds ; " but, since we are assembled, and 
have the justice of the peace here, there is nothing to 
hinder the marriage ceremony from being performed on 
the spot." 

" Willingly," said Humbug. " Miss Susan, you shall 
be my clerk." 

N"o sooner said than done. I thought that such unions 
were only fit for the theatre, where they are dissolved 
behind the scenes ; I thought that the last village notary 
had long since passed away ; but in America, men are 
always in such haste, that they maintain the old custom. 
The lovers once agreed, the relatives, and even the nota- 
ry, are dispensed with. Two affirmatives before a justice 
of the peace, and you are married for eternity. The will 
is everything, the formality nothing. These people have 
no taste for ceremony. 

With what pleasure I quitted this house, which I had 
entered with a troubled heart ! Paddy reaped a harvest 
of dollars, sufficient to take away his senses for a whole 
week. Never had Laurel Street beheld so honest and 
joyous a company. I opened the procession with my 



264 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

Susan, who gave her hand to her little protege ; Humbug 
and Seth formed the vanguard ; between us walked the 
newly married couple, Dinah smiling like the dawn, Fox 
hanging his head : 

" Honteux comme un renard qu'une poule aurait pris." 

But when one is happy, a little shame is soon swal- 
lowed. If the imprudent man had played too lightly 
with love, how had he been punished for his fault ? By 
marrying a charming wife. At this price, I know inno- 
cent men who would become criminals. 

It was necessary to prepare Dinah's mother for her 
daughter's return ; it w^as also necessary for Fox to 
announce his' marriao^e to his friends and arransje his 
household. Meanwhile, Susan kept Dinah with her. To 
me was reserved the part of father and guardian ; the 
happy blunder that I had made gave me some right to 
it. 

A remnant of liberty which he could no longer abuse 
was restored to Fox, and the whole company returned 
to my dwelling. There was a great festival in the house. 
Never had we dined more gaily. Martha opened a 
mouth as wide as an oven, and sighed like a volcano, 
while admiring and waiting on her sister-in-law ; Susan 
and Alfred constantly had something to whisper to each 
other; Dinah alone w^as admitted as a third party to 
these mysteries, in which they laughed without ceasing. 
Seth devoured everything on the table with the satisfac- 
tion of a man who has done a good stroke of business, 
and is dining at another's table. Humbug, who, despite 
his enormous corpulence, ate little and drank nothing 



DmAH. 265 

but water, made amends for his sobriety by quoting the 
most gleeful lines of Horace, that other drinker, who 
sang fasting the pleasures of intoxication : 

" I:Tunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero 
Pulsanda tellus." 

For my part, with tranquil mind, I enjoyed the gaiety 
and happiness of the children. But nothing can express 
the joy and animation of my Jenny. She could not 
remain in her place ; she went, she came ; she changed 
all the plates with the roast beef, the potatoes, the ham, 
the pie, the cheese, the fruit, and the cake ; she jjoured 
out the Scotch ale, Madeira, and Rhine wine, in pro- 
fusion ; she had a gracious word for every man, a caress 
for every woman. A marriage ! It was to her the prize 
in a lottery. If there was a verse in the Bible which 
Jenny regarded as divinely inspired above all others, it 
was the great command which God addressed at creation 
to the first couple : J^e fruitful^ and multiply^ and 
replenish the earthy and subdue it. The excellent 
woman was neither American nor Protestant by halves. 
In her eyes celibacy was a crime, or at least a disease, 
which could not be too soon cured. If she had had her 
own way, she would not have left a bachelor on earth ; 
I fancy that she would have ended by marrying the Pope 
and Italy. 



12 



266 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 

The next morning, at breakfast time, my heart was 
free from care. Dinah at my right and Susan at my left 
gave me the air of a patriarch amidst his children. Since 
I have begun to grow old, nothing pleases me more than 
to see about me these yoimg faces, fresh as the dawning 
day, and smiling as hope. Alas ! that we cannot put 
aside all thorns from their path. Alas ! that we cannot 
lend them that experience which iife sells to us so dearly, 
and which avails us nothing ! 

My wife did not do things by halves. If I had adopted 
Dinah, Fox was the protege of Jenny — he was married ! 
He had his knife and fork laid, therefore, by the side of 
his beloved. He entered without the least embarrass- 
ment, a bridal bouquet in his hand, and embraced his 
bride with a conquering air. When the sharp face of the 
lawyer was distorted by anger, he was not handsome ; 
tender and gallant, he was hideous ; he might have been 
styled an amorous serpent. This was not Dinah's opin- 
ion ; in vain I said the most amiable things to her ; she 
had eyes only for her other neighbor. Rachel had less 
admiration for Jacob, when he rolled away the stone in 
the desert to water the flocks of Laban. Women have 
in the highest degree the instinct of property ; and, of all 
properties, that which is nearest their heart is a husband. 
But, while the Frenchwoman is a huntress nymph who, 
the game once caught, cares little for it, the American 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 267 

woman takes possession of her husband with the iierce- 
ness and jealousy of the French peasant who espouses 
the soil. He is her property, he is her thing ; the unfor- 
tunate is no longer but a caged bird, a domestic slave ; 
yet a bird that is caressed, a slave, all of whose desires 
are anticipated. The Americans abuse their independ- 
ence to such a degree out of doors, that, on returning 
home, they have no longer a will of their own. The 
Yankee, who makes it his glory and pride to yield to no 
man, is nothing in his household but a comphant hus- 
band, who listens to his wife and takes dehght in obey- 
ing her ; gentle with the weak, intractable with the 
strong. This contrary minded peo^^le does nothing like 
us. 

Fox wished to carry away Dinah to make her wed- 
ding purchases ; Susan oj)posed it. 

" Sir," said she, " I am sorry ; but Dinah belongs to 
me. We have found her an engagement for six months 
as schoolmistress ; this is the day that she is to enter on 
her duties, and she cannot break her Avord. In a little 
time, it will be easy for me to replace her, and leave her 
to you for a w^hole week ; to-day, it is impossible. Papa," 
added she, " we count on you for our inauguration." 

" My dear child," said I, " you forget that I also enter 
to-day on my duties in the Providence Hospital ; I am 
already very late. That suit of yesterday" 

" It makes no difference," said Susan ; go directly to 
see your little patients ; our school is in Federal street, 
close by Walnut street ; we shall expect you at noon." 

On reaching the hospital, I inquired for the direc- 
tress — it was a woman, Susan's teacher, the celebrated 
Mrs. Hope, doctor in medicine and professor of hygiene; 
another of those contradictions which are met only 



268 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

in the United States. She was, however, a respectable 
matron, who welcomed me as a comrade, and directly- 
commenced the rounds with me. The hospital was a 
model ; in no country have I seen so perfect an installa- 
tion. Vast halls with a small number of beds, placed 
far apart, no curtains, plenty of air, a judicious light, 
silence, exquisite neatness, with nothing of that stale and 
nauseous odor which makes an hospital an object of 
repugnance, and often a poisonous abode. For the first 
time, I found united all the conditions demanded by 
hygiene no less than charity. 

At the call of Mrs. Hope, a flying squadron of young 
ladies rushed toward us. A black dress, bib apron, and 
white cap gave them the air of counterfeit sisters of 
charity. They were the resident students of the hospi- 
tal, the future doctors in petticoats of free America. 
They followed my clinic with the greatest attention ; I 
was struck with the clearness of their explanations in 
giving me the condition of the jxitient, and the care 
with which they noted down all my words and prescrip- 
tions ; but I had too much good sense to take this 
chimerical essay in earnest, and asked good Mrs. Hope 
what she expected from this singular education. 

"I think," said she, "that we are about to effect a 
great reform. These young pupils have already been 
two years in the Maternity Hospital, next year they will 
go to the Chnic for Women ; we shall make them true 
physicians." 

" Bravo !" exclaimed I, "it will be charming for u9 
grey beards to be attended by Hippocrates of eighteen, 
in crinoline and laces." 

" No," said she, " we have nothing to do with you 
gentlemen. But accouchement, the care of infants, the 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 369 

diseases and maladies of women — these belong to us ; 
we imderstand them better than you. We shall leave 
you surgery and extraordinary cases, but all that a 
mother or wife confides to you only with regret, we 
shall take ourselves ; you will be driven from a domain 
which you have usurped. We shall introduce modesty 
into medicine ; prejudice will cry out as usual, but we 
shall have the women, fathers and husbands on our side; 
we shall win, do you not think so ?" 

What could I reply to a fanatic, especially when this 
fanatic was a woman ; that is, a being weak by nature 
and afilicted with organic obstinacy ? I broke ofi" the 
discussion, and continued my visit. The diseases were 
not serious, and the little patients were so tenderly and 
prudently cared for that little was left me to prescribe. 
I had to perform but a single operation and that of little 
importance. I opened an abscess of bad character and 
inconveniently situated in the neck of a child. Lightness 
of hand, and grace and elegance of dressing are the glory 
of our Parisian school ; I achieved great success, there- 
fore, with my young pupils ; my bandage, with its inge- 
nious folds, was directly sketched, and the drawing 
placed as a model in the operating hall. Indeed, on 
seeing so much intelligence, good will, and attention, 
there were moments when I would have admitted that 
women are good for something else than to give pap to 
infants. ^^ All this is not over uncomely ^^"^ Montaigne 
would have said, ^'•hut what! they do not wear breeches.'''^ 

I made this wise reflection in time and, I say it to my 
honor, remained faithful to the ancient rehgion of the 
Faculty. Novelties in politics may pass, there they are 
innocent ; but elsewhere, long live prejudice ! The 
proof that it is salutary is that it has th.e majority on its 



270 PAKIS m AMERICA. 

side, and that stones are cast at innovators. I found 
these young heretics charming, but their heresy was 
abominable, and I did not yield to it. 

The visit finished, I repaired to the meeting of the 
board of managers ; Mrs. Hope accompanied me, and 
took her seat among us without astonishing any one but 
me by her presence. Among the trustees or managers^ 
I found faces that I knew ; Rose, the apothecary, the 
gallant Colonel St. John, the amiable Humbug, and 
ISToah Brown, the insupportable Puritan. The directress 
was the first to speak ; she set forth, with documents in 
hand and in good language, the insufficiency of the 
house, and the necessity of purchasing an adjoining gar- 
den as a yard for the use of the convalescents. When 
she had ended, my opinion was asked. 

" I fully approve this excellent idea," said I, " and I 
am convinced that by addressing a clear and well-written 
memorial to the administration, with proper recommen- 
dations, we shall obtain in eight or ten years this urgent 
improvement." 

" Of what administration do you speak ?" asked the 
colonel, who presided by right of seniority." 

"I speak of the general administration of hospitals." 

"What sort of a monster is that?" said Humbug, 
laughing." " Brown, is it a new name for Leviathan ?" 

" A truce to jests," said I to Humbug. " I suppose 
that this hospital, like all others, is dependent on a great 
protective and central administration. Does the State, 
the city, or a corporation, regulate, watch over, and 
organize charity ? — it matters little, it is evident that it 
still depends on some one or something ?" 

" That is an evidence," said the rude Brown, " which 
is the opposite of the truth. Thank God ! we depend on 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 271 

110 one. We unite together to relieve misery; we put 
our good will, time, and money in common ; we submit 
our statutes to the State, which makes us a corporation ; 
after this, who can have a right to meddle with our 
affairs ? Is charity a crime ? Is it a political or muni- 
cipal charge ? I am a Christian, I succor the poor in my 
own way ; who can impede me in the first of all duties ? 
Is Heaven won by proxy ?" 

" Pardon me," said I, " no one hinders you from giving 
your money ; no tyranny has ever pushed cruelty thus 
far. But the right to found a hospital is another thing ; 
if we leave to the first comer the right to open one of 
these asylums, what disorder Avill not come of it ? You 
will ere long have homeopathic hospitals, and I know not 
what besides !" 

" Homeopathic hospitals," said Rose ; " there are three 
in the city, and a fourth is about to be established. What 
harm does it do ?" 

" Rose, my dear friend, exclaimed I, " do you, an or- 
thodox apothecary, utter such monstrosities ?" 

" My dear doctor," answered Rose, " we do not recog- 
nize, even in religion, an official orthodoxy. We leave 
to each one a right to seek God according to his own 
conscience. In good faith, we cannot be more rigorous 
towards the health of the body than that of the soul. 
Besides, my good friend, we are both augurs ; we know 
how much to rely on official medicine and orthodox 
pills." 

" So be it," replied I ; " proclaim the freedom of quack- 
ery and poisoning. Nothing longer astonishes me in this 
republic, which should put on its federal flag the device 
of the Abbey of Thel^me, Do what thou wilt ; but I will 
address you in the name of utility and good sense. 



272 '' PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

With your let-alone system, how many hospitals have 
you?" 

" A hundred, at most," said Mrs. Hope. 

The number astonished me ; I had not imagined such 
a fecundity of anarchical charity ; but I was not at the 
end of reasoning. 

" A hundred hospitals !" exclaimed I ; " gentlemen, 
retrench this formidable number. If it does honor to the 
Christians of Paris, in Massachusetts, ask yourselves, as 
practical men, what this multiplicity, this rivalry must 
inevitably produce — duplicate offices, loss of money; 
here, superabundance ; there, complete absence of aid ; 
v/aste and poverty. Suppose, on the contrary, a vast 
administration uniting these dispersed threads, concen- 
trating these stray forces; place at the apex of the 
pyramid a vigilant, active and economical man — directly 
order reigns, and with order all the blessings of unity. 
Hierarchy of physicians, regular cHnics, disciplined in- 
struction, central pharmacy, central bakery, meat shop, 
fish market, laundry, in a word, a veritable empire — the 
empire of charity, with its ruler, his ministers and subjects. 
This is not a dream ; this ideal is a truth in the countries 
which are at the head of civilization. Thanks to the 
marvellous power of centralization, I affirm, that with a 
small number of large hospitals and an energetic organi- 
zation, it would be easy for me to double the number of 
your beds without costing you a dollar more." 

" I am convinced of it," said Humbug. " With his 
talisman, the doctor is capable of making the world anew 
and expelling from it all the disorders of liberty. I de- 
mand that by a unanimous vote it shall be put into his 
hands — mills, foundries, lumber-yards, manufactories, and 
so on. With central works and a hierarchy of engi- 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 273 

neers, I do not doubt that he will double the production 
while diminishing the expense." 

" You are unbearable," said I ; "do you take me for a 
communist ? Do I not know that in industry this unity 
is chimerical ?" 

" Why so ?" resumed the everlasting scoffer. " In 
industry, does not centralization necessarily bring about 
economy of force, regularity of production, hierarchy and 
discipline of labor ?" 

" Doubtless," answered I ; " but this is a narrow side 
of the question. This mechanical uniformity destroys the 
moral law of production. What is this factitious regu- 
larity if it destroys the watchfulness of the master, if it 
annihilates individual effort, private interest, free compe- 
tition ? A drop of water in the ocean. What I propose 
to you, on the contrary " 

"Is exactly the same thing," interrupted Humbug, 
with vivacity. " Private interest, individual effort, free 
competition, all these motive powers which you appreci- 
ate so truly, are also the motive powers of charity, and 
it must be added, of patriotism which lives only by liberty. 
If the state or parish takes it upon itself to succor the 
poor in my stead and place, if this enormous mechanism 
rids me of the first of all virtues, I shall grumblingly pay 
a meagre tax, and there will be an end of it. But leave 
to my charge the care of wretchedness and the sweets 
of alms, and I shall bring you my last farthing. I care 
little for the other hospitals of the city, I am not ac- 
quainted with them ; but this one belongs to me, these 
children are mine, I love them as if God had given them 
to me alone. When I have ended my day's labors, when 
I am sad and weary, I come here ; in the midst of my 
little proteges, I forget my cares. Ask these gentlemen 

12* 



274 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

what their voluntary chanty costs them. I estimate 
that, at the loAvest figure, it swallows up one-tenth of 
their income; I defy the state to take a twentieth part 
for its official hospitals. Every one would cry out 
against the tyranny. That money may be wasted and 
strength lost, I grant ; but it is the result which we are 
to look at ; and I affirm, documents in hand, that indi- 
vidual charity is three or four times as fruitful as organ- 
ized charity. Your system, my dear doctor, unceasingly 
casts an obstacle between the will and the deed, which 
freezes everything. We are not paralytics, let us act ; 
see what a people gains by liberty. In a political point 
of view, it is wholly to the interest of the state to leave 
us the practice of the most amiable and sociable of the 
virtues ; in an economical point of view, it is a good 
business ; it multiplies assistance and studies ; it serves, 
at the same time, science and humanity." 

" Gentlemen," said the colonel, " it seems to me that 
we are. digressing greatly from the question. We are 
asked for twenty thousand dollars to increase and im- 
prove our hospital ; we have but one thing to do — to 
subscribe, and send the subscription list to our associates. 
I have no children, and have adopted these little ones ; I 
will set the example, and subscribe a thousand dollars." 

The list passed from hand to hand ; when it came to 
me, I did like Rose, and subscribed fifty dollars. 

" Permit me a last reflection," said I to the Board. 
" I see that we pay ten thousand dollars for a small 
garden ; is not this too dear ?" 

" It is twice the real value," replied Mrs. Hope ; " but 
the owner will not part with it for less." 

" A fine thing!" cried I. "A landowner sets his con- 
venience and selfishness above the interest of the poor ! 



THE CHAKITY HOSPITAL. 275 

Well, gentlemen, we must take forcible possession of it ; 
do not encourage an odious speculation, by your weak- 
ness!" 

" Dr. Smith," said Brown, frowning, " this is commu- 
nism of the first water." 

*' Nonsense ! " returned I, shrugging my shoulders ; 
" ought not private interest to yield to pubhc interest ?" 

" Doubtless," replied the Puritan ; " but nothing is so 
dangerous as hackneyed maxims. High-sounding words 
are always used to kill liberty! Property is not an 
interest, it is a right. General interest is an elastic and 
vague word, which may cover the most unjust as well as 
the most legitimate 2:)retensions. Before invoking, begin 
by defining it." 

" Our laws have decided the question," said Humbug. 
"There are for us but four causes of forcible disposses- 
sion — a highway, a street, a railroad, and a canal. But, 
although we may be preeminently a municipal people, 
and the city be sovereign in what regards it, neverthe- 
less, property is a thing so sacred that, before touching 
it, the legislature of the state must interfere. This it 
is which approves the route and authorizes the dis- 
possession in consideration of preliminary indemnity. 
For everything else — schools, hospitals, town-houses, 
churches, the law places private right above an interest 
which, after all, is only that of a district. Doctor, where 
would your system lead ? I would be despoiled of the 
inheritance of my fathers, my memories would be wrested 
from me, my afiections would be mocked, the most 
sacred of possessions would be disturbed, and for what ? 
To build a theatre or public house ? This cannot be." 

" What !" exclaimed I, " in a republic where the peo- 
ple rule, dare you defend these old feudal maxims ? " 



276 PAEIS IN AMEKICA. 

" Sir," said Brown, " you understand notliing of lib- 
erty. The more democratic a country is, the more 
necessary is it that the individual should be powerful 
and his country respected. We are a people of sove- 
reigns ; all that weakens the individual leads us to 
demagogism — that is, to disorder and ruin ; all that 
strengthens the individual leads us to democracy — the 
reign of reason and the Gospel. A free nation is a nation 
where every citizen is absolute master of his conscience, 
person, and property. On the day that, instead of being 
told of our individual rights, we shall be told of the gen- 
eral interest, it will be all over with the work of Wash- 
ington ; we shall be a mob, and have a master." 

*' Gentlemen," said the colonel, who w^as indifferently 
interested in our debate, " there is nothing more before 
us ; the meeting is adjourned. I ask pardon for leaving 
you," added he. "It is said that there is bad news 
from the seat of Avar ; I am in haste to know the truth." 

I was not sorry to have done with the Puritan and his 
harsh language ; but, unhapj^ily for me, I had pleased 
him ; or, rather, I suppose that he had formed the glori- 
ous project of converting me to his fanaticism. 

"Doctor," said he, "I have a favor to ask of you. We 
are just establishing a mechanics' institute in this ward. 
There will be a library, a museum of models, two halls 
of design, public lectures, a reading room — in a word,-, 
everything which will be useful to a club of this kind. 
The mechanics themselves will defray the cost of its sup- 
port ; far from us be the thought of interfering as bene- 
I'actors, or in anywise disturbing the w^ork of liberty. 
Never to weaken either the dignity or the responsibility 
of those Avhom we oblige is the first rule of charity. But 
tlie first expenses are considerable, and the purses of our 



THE CHAEITY HOSPITAL. 27T 

mechanics would hardly suffice for them. At least ten 
thousand dollars are needed; to obtain this sum, we 
give public lectures, with an admission fee. The classic 
Everett has promised us his co-operation, as well as the 
eloquent Sumner. We shall have, I hope, the philoso- 
pher Emerson and the poet Longfellow. For my part, 
I shall give a lecture, in which I shall show that, by 
rehabilitating labor and upraising the laborer, the Gospel 
has created at once wealth and moral liberty. You will 
not refuse to join us. Two lectures on the hygiene of 
new-born infants, by the learned physician of the Provi- 
dence hospital, will give us all the mothers, and be worth 
to us at least four hundred dollars." 

"Have you the authorization of the government?" 
asked I. 

'■'Really, doctor, you Avill go straight to Paradise," 
answered the crabbed preacher. " By caring for child- 
ren, you have become like these little ones ; you can no 
longer walk without leading-strings. What authoriza- 
tion is necessary to enlighten men and do them good ?" 

" What !" cried I. " Can you give courses of public 
lectures, and talk politics to the workingmen, without 
the interference of the government?" 

" Assuredly," said he ; " if we forget our duties, the 
law is at hand, and the writs with it ; this suffices." 

" No, it does not suffice ; the state cannot abandon to 
the first comer the right of speech-making to the citizens. 
This science of parade, this semi-instruction, inspires the 
people with a disastrous ambition ; you endanger the 
country, and religion itself." 

" Twilight is better than darkness, the reign of the 
appetites and j)assions," said Brown ; " and moreover, 
what means is there of finding light, if not seeking it ? 



278 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

It is necessary that we should address the people and be 
unceasingly in connection with them. To us democrats 
and Christians, there is here a question of life and death. 
What kills republics is ignorance ; enlighten the people, 
if you fear despotism. What kills religion is an unrea- 
soning faith ; enlighten the people, if you fear infidelity. 
We must have light in everything and everywhere. If 
Christianity be a fable, let it fall ; if it be truth, let it 
rule. Do you believe that we pastors are charlatans, 
who live by error and credulity ?" 

" Calm yourself," answered I, " and do not view the 
question from so high a standpoint. You will grant that, 
in giving the mechanics a place of meeting, you establish 
a club where they will be the masters." 

" Of course, since they will be at home." 

" Do you not see, then, that, on the first quarrel with 
their employers, this club will be the nucleus of a coali- 
tion ?" 

" If the mechanics wish to form a coalition," said the 
fanatic, coldly, " who can hinder them from doing so ? 
Those who sell their labor have as many rights as those 
who buy it. It is a free bargain." 

"But, sir," exclaimed I, indignant at this stupidity, 
" you are preaching anarchy." 

" Sir," said he, with his usual rudeness, " you speak a 
language which is not that of America. Anarchy is the 
invasion of the liberty of others ; it is not the defence of 
one's own liberty. 

" Believe me," added he, raising his inspired eyes to 
heaven, "the cultivation of the soul is the salvation of 
Christian democracies ; they live only through education. 
Let the workingmen read, instruct themselves and argue ; 
elevate them, according to the admirable sense of the 



THE CUARITY HOSPITAL. 279 

word, elevate them to yourself, elevate yourself with 
them, and you have to fear neither coahtions nor com- 
munism, nor any of those follies which terrify the old 
continent. These are maladies engendered by ignorance ; 
it belongs to us, doctor, to cure them. Sursum corda^ 
behold my motto !" 

" I accept it heartily," answered I, carried away by the 
impetuosity of the inspired preacher, " count on me." 

Left alone with Humbug, I asked him whether he 
would come with me to Dinah's inauguration. 

" I shall take care not to miss it. Dr. Paradox," said 
he, with a wicked smile, " you are too amusing with your 
magnificent theories. The more I hear you, the better I 
appreciate the greatness of our institutions." 

"Thanks for the compliment," answered I. "It ap- 
pears that my praises of centralization have the efl'ect on 
you of a demonstration of liberty per ahsurdum y you 
should be more charitable, my good friend, and remem- 
ber that there are other countries in the world beside 
America." •^ 

" I see what you are aiming at," said he, " fanatic of 
Latin unity, pious worshipper of France. I, too, love 
the French, the grandchildren of Lafayette are to me 
brethren ; but, I ask pardon of this ingenious people, for 
seventy years they have been pursuing an insoluble prob- 
lem. To put liberty in a charter and despotism in the 
administration is to attempt to Avalk with the arms and 
legs tied ; all the wit in the world would never succeed 
in it." 

" Indeed," resumed I, smiling at this vanity. " Come, 
practical man, tell us then what Frenchmen lack to ele- 
vate themselves to the civilization of the Yankees." 

" A single thing," said he in great earnest. " In all 



280 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

their systems, they have forgotten the essential article. 
Their politicians are like absent-minded Sam." 

" Who is absent-minded Sam ?" 

"He was our village carrier," said Humbug, laughingly; 
" a fellow full of wit and shrewdness, daring to temerity, 
economical to avarice, exact to minuteness, the pride and 
honor of Connecticut. He had but one failing, the lack 
of memory. One day, when he had more than fifty 
packages to distribute along the way he appeared con- 
stantly restless and agitated. * I have forgotten some- 
thing,' said he, ' what can it be T On reaching home, 
his children ran to meet bim, crying 'Papa ! papa ! where 
is mamma ?' ' Heavens !' cried Sam, striking his forehead, 
' that is Avhat I missed ; I have forgotten my wife.' 

"So it is with Frenchmen; take at random one of 
those constitutions which have been manufactured for 
them by dozens ; you will find in it the State and its rights, 
the individual and his rights, but there will be lacking " — 

" What ?" exclaimed I. 

" Society," answered Humbug, "ft has never occurred 
to a French legislator that society; that is, association 
under every form, the free action of individuals united, 
could have a place in the political life of the nation. We 
Americans give it the broadest domain — the district, the 
church, the hospital, the school, higher education, sci- 
ences, letters. Each association is to us a family enlarged, 
and all these associations rising from one degree to 
another, form so many strata ascending from the indivi- 
dual to the State. America is, to speak truly, only a 
union of families, transacting their own business. In 
France, is there anything which resembles this ? But a 
single thing is seen there ; the administration, a huge 
polypus, which stretches out its shoots everywhere, lays 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 281 

hold of everytliing, grasps everything, stifles every- 
thing : 

"Monstnim horrendum, immane, ingens, ciii lumen ademptum." 

" The country is cut m twain ; on one side the ruling 
power, "svith all the resources of a formidable centraliza- 
tion, on the other a crowd obeying, more or less wil- 
lingly. Thence all the revolutions which rend this beau- 
tiful country, thence their perpetual abortiveness. Now 
the authority is w^eakened and reduced to impotence, 
men think to increase liberty and arrive only at anarchy ; 
then they rush into the opposite extreme and tighten all 
bonds, they think to serve order and arrive only at des- 
potism. Deplorable spectacle of a noble people which 
raises itself from the abyss only to fall on the other 
side !" 

"And the remedy, my dear friend? Who knows 
w^hether the national character be not the cause of this 
perpetual lack of success V 

"I do not believe," said Humbug, "that there are 
peoples born to serve ; I do not even except the negroes. 
I do not see, moreover, that France has ever made a bad 
use of association. Thanks to the administration, which 
swims on the surface after every revolution and enriches 
itself by every shipwreck. Frenchmen have always been 
refused this peaceful liberty which moderates and sub- 
dues all the others. A vote which avails them little has 
ten times been given them, but the care of their own 
affairs they still await. Kings for an hour, they are 
refused on the morrow even the faculty of acting and 
speaking. In these conditions, the experiment is not 
made; sovereignty is not liberty. With the first, a 
people conquers often only a right to destroy itself; with 



282 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

the second, it lives, grows, and holds in its hands its for- 
tune and honor. When Frenchmen shall have essayed 
to govern themselves, we shall be at liberty to condemn 
them ; until then, no one has a right to accuse them. 
La Fayette, whose writings, neglected perhaps in France, 
we read, demanded half a century ago this free life, these 
free assemblies which make our greatness. If I had the 
honor to be his fellow-countryman, this is the inheritance 
which I would reclaim. He who shall teach Frenchmen 
that centralization enslaves them and that association 
alone can set them free, Avill pluck out forever the germ 
of revolution, and plant at last in a generous soil a tree 
wiiich will never wither. He, far more surely than 
Archimedes, can cry ' Eureka V he will have discovered 
at the same stroke two treasures more jDrecious than all 
the riches of the world — liberty and peace." 

" Bravo, Humbug !" exclaimed I, " this is eloquence. 
But, my good friend, if you should relate these fables at 
Paris in France, you would be hissed as a dreamer, even 
if you should not be imprisoned as guilty of sedition, 
amidst the applause of modern Athens." 

" This would little astonish me," said he ; " the Athe- 
nians of former times had a philosopher, whom the 
Pythoness proclaimed the wisest of men ; therefore they 
made haste to put him to death. The wits of Agora, 
the practical men accused Socrates of being a revolu- 
tionist and atheist. Where is to-day the memory of 
those great statesmen who repeated in every key that 
they had saved the country, and who naturally were 
recompensed for their services ? A citizen is not checked 
by these miserable obstacles, he points out the rock, he 
struggles, he cries till the waves stifle him; he saves 
men sometimes in spite of themselves, and expects 



THE CHARITY HOSPITAL. 283 

nothing but of posterity. Gratitude is the virtue of the 
future." 

" Strange people !" murmured I. Among these shop- 
keepers, convictions are passions, while among us, a 
heroic and theatrical people, passions and interests are 

convictions which " 1 kept the rest of the reflection 

to myself. 



284 PAKIS liT AMEEIOA. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE SCHOOL. 

While talking, we reached Federal street. In front 
of us, on a hill which overlooked the city and country, 
proudly rose an edifice of imposing appearance, a square 
tower, flanked by two wings. Had I been in a civilized 
country, I should have called it the barracks of the 
gendarmery or the hall of the prefecture ; among this 
people, without police or government, it was the palace 
of A B C — it was the school ! A nation may be judged 
by its monuments. 

" Well, doctor," said Humbug, " what do you think 
of our palace of youth ?" 

" Very handsome externally," replied I ; " but very 
badly arranged. I see yonder great boys of fifteen and 
girls of the same age entering together at one door ; this 
is improper. In every well organized school, the sexes 
are separated — a precaution of which you do not seem to 
have even an idea." 

" Two entrances for children who study in the same 
room," said Humbug. " To what purpose ?" 

" In the same room !" exclaimed I ; " what are you 
thinking of? It is the height of immorality." 

" I see nothing immoral but your imagination," re- 
joined Humbug, laughing. " Our children, my dear 
doctor, are honest children ; none are found amongst us 

but— 

" ' Yirgines lectas puerosque castos.* 



THE SCHOOL. 285 

The school is a great family, where there are only bro- 
thers and sisters contending for the prizes of study. 
"Where did you get these horrible affectations ?" 

*' Then, my good friend, the Yankees are angels, males 
and females." 

"The Yankees," returned the judge, "are men who 
take the trouble to reflect and reason." 

"And is Europe," rejoined I, "with its twenty cen- 
turies of experience, but a dotard, knowing neither what 
it says nor does ?" 

" My dear doctor," said Humbug, " the English be- 
gan by sneering at us ; to-day, they imitate us. Before 
ten years have passed, there will be no longer a single 
school in England where the sexes are not together. 
As to the other peoples of Europe, their education has 
been so long clerical that more than a day will be needed 
to divest them of their prejudice. We rear neither 
monks nor soldiers, we prepare men for every-day life. 
Why not make the school, then, the image of the family 
and society ?" 

" You are imprudent men," I exclaimed ; " you play 
with fire." 

" We are fathers of families," returned Humbug ; " we 
know by experience that to soften the heart, form the 
character and inspire generous ideas, nothing equals this 
first community of labor and study. 

" ' Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros.' 

" What is imprudent and insane is the pretended wisdom 
of old Europe. To separate boys and girls, to teach 
them from the earliest age that they are mysteriously 
dangerous to each other, to disturb and excite young 
and then all at once, at the most critical 



386 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

moment, to fling npon the world ardent and rash men, 
restless, timid and defenceless women, is madness of the 
first order. I beg pardon of your gravity, my dear doc- 
tor. Your cloistral education is a dike which retains 
and swells all the passions ; our common education 
accustoms our children to love each other like brothers 
and respect each other mutually." 

" Is it possible," cried I, " that the dangers of your 
system do not stare you in the face ?" 

" Ask our teachers," replied he. " You will not find 
one that is not j^roud of our mixed schools. They are 
the invention and honor of America. As usual, we have 
had confidence in human nature and liberty ; as usual, 
we have succeeded. Nowhere is the instruction stronger 
or morality greater than in our beloved institution. The 
emulation between the sexes is a spur that has no parallel. 
However much of a child he may be, the man is always 
ashamed to yield the first rank ; the woman is patient, 
and has a more open intellect ; in these first studies, in 
which there is nothmg abstract, she almost always takes 
the lead. But this is only a narrow side of the question. 
The young girls gain as much in character and will as 
the young men gain in heart. They learn to know us ; 
and, between ourselves, my good Daniel, we are danger- 
ous only in proportion as we are not known. Respected, 
the young girls respect themselves ; free, they take them- 
selves the place which fits them — for instance, in recrea- 
tions, a natural prudence separates them from their com- 
panions. As to the young men, they acquire in our 
schools that delicacy of feeling, that chivalrous polite- 
ness, which the society of women alone can give. What 
is rougher and more boisterous than the English school- 
boy, abandoned to himself and the tyranny of his seniors ? 



THE SCHOOL. 287 

Have you read Tom Brown ? It is enough to make us 
blush for civilization. I had rather live among the red- 
skins than the schoolboys of Eton and Rugby. Among 
us, on the contrary, the youth of both sexes grow up 
together. At sixteen, at twenty, their relations are as 
simple and fraternal as when they were found on the 
same benches. More than one marriage is made among 
these former school-fellows ; esteem and friendship bring 
love, and survive it. Has Europe, your idol, ever invented 
anything so Christian and so perfect ?" 

" It is a dream," said I. 

"Enter, incredulous," rejoined Humbug, "and you 
will see that this dream is a reality." 

"A word more," said I. "All these children are 
saints, that is a matter of course; but where do you 
find men capable of rearmg these celestial phalanxes ? 
Who is the master that can at once animate the timidity 
of your young girls, and quell the turbulence of your 
boys ? Where find this phoenix who, in every district, is 
answerable for the honor and virtue of your children ?" 

" Enter," replied Humbug ; " you will see at the work 
your protege, Dinah, and perhaps your dear Susan." 

" You are mad !" exclaimed I, striking the ground 
with my cane. " Is it to a woman of twenty that you 
entrust men with already a beard on their chin? A 
fine general for such an army! How she must be 
respected !" 

"Again a prejudice of the Old World, my dear friend. 
To a young man who loves his mother and sister, nothing 
is more natural than to respect a woman, or less so than 
to obey a teacher who threatens and punishes him. 
Force has little hold on the heart of a child ; the more 
generous he is, the more he resists ; but he is without 



288 PAEIS m AIvIEEICA. 

defence against gentleness and affection. On this point, 
again, experience gives the lie to ancient wisdom, which 
is only old error. It is the women of New England who, 
with missionary devotion, exile themselves among the 
corruption of the South and the solitudes of the West, to 
rear young souls, and give them to the truth and to God. 
We have masters who are second to none, but our best 
endowed instructors often fail where a Yankee girl does 
marvels. Childhood belongs to woman ; it is a natural 
law, which we have had the merit to recognize and 
apply." 

" Amen," replied I, shrugging my shoulders ; " let us 
go then to admire these timid ewes and docile sheep, led 
by a shepherdess no less innocent than her flock." 

I entered the schoolroom ill-humoredly ; I cannot en- 
dure unreasonableness ; but, I confess it to my shame, 
scarcely had I set foot in the sanctuary when I was fas- 
cinated. 

I found myself in a vast apartment, well sujDplied with 
air and light from large w^indows ; the walls were of ex- 
quisite neatness and hung at intervals with maps, pictures 
of natural history, and physical and geometrical figures. 
Each child had his desk, isolated by four passages intersect- 
ing each other about him. Seated before this varnished 
table, which shone hke a mirror, alone and without a neigh- 
bor, the scholar was his own master; if he were abstracted, 
if he did not work, on him fell the whole responsibility. 
The teacher, placed on a platform, surveyed at a glance 
the long files of desks, ranged one behind another — a 
surveillance scarcely necessary among an ambitious peo- 
ple, where each one is anxious to instruct himself in order 
to arrive at fortune and power ! The vices of the Ame- 
ricans serve them bettor than our virtues serve us. 



THE SCHOOL. 289 

Dinah was busy in an adjoining room. My Susan was 
the mistress of the large schooh'oom. At this moment 
she was teaching geometry to seven or eight tall lads, 
who, to do them justice, listened like good children to 
their amiable teacher. 

" Come, i^apa," said Susan, joyfully, " take this chalk, 
and demonstrate to us the proj^'erties of the square of 
the hyj^othenuse." 

To make the demonstration would have been difficult 
for me ; I had been too well brought up by the Univers- 
ity of France to understand anything of geometry ; all 
that I had retained on this pomt was i^educed to an old 
song wliich perhaps is still hummed in the suburbs of the 
Polytechnic School to the air of Calpigi, 

"Le carre de I'hypotenuse"' 
Est egal, si je ne m'abuse, 
A la somme des deux carres 
Faits sur les deux autres cotes." 

I left Susan therefore to drav/ on the blackboard the 
rectangled triangle ABC, erect on each side the square, 
etc., etc., and made my escape, that my daughter might 
not have to blush for the paternal ignorance. 

In one of the class rooms, of which there were eight, 
Dinah was questioning children of eight or nine years, on 
the rivers of France and their tributaries. I was aston- 
ished at their memory and knowledge, I, a Frenchman 

* The square of the hypothenuse 
Is equal, if I mistake not, 
To the sum of the two squares 
Made on the two other sides. 

10 
o 



290 PAEIS IN AMEEICA. 

who, questioned on America, could have offered nothing 
in exchange to these young erudite scholars but the Mis- 
sissippi, the Hudson and the Potomac, the only water 
courses of which I had ever heard. It is true that Ame- 
rica Httle concerns us, while France, the queen of letters 
and arts, must interest the Americans prodigiously. It 
is the admiration of barbarians for civilization ! 

After geography came reading aloud and declamation. 
A little fellow of nine rose, and without timidity as with- 
out effrontery, recited to us one of the most poetic pas- 
sages of Longfellow's Hiawatha. Although the young 
prodigy spoke through his nose, a vice common in Ame- 
rica, he gave us the extract with much precision of tone 
and true feeling ; there are celebrated actors who have 
never attained thus far. 

After the poetry, it was the turn of eloquence. A 
child, with flaming red locks, rose, set his feet square, 
and in an animated voice, intoned a hymn to the glory 
of America. 

"FeIENDS and rELLOW-CITIZENS : 

" You are only in infancy, yet notwithstanding, you are 
already the first people on the globe. Who was the hero of the 
last century, the greatest man, and best, the friend of his coun- 
try and liberty ? The universe answers, George "Washington ; an 
American. Who was at that time the greatest natural philoso- 
pher? Franklin; an American. The greatest theologian ? Jona- 
than Edwards ; an American. Who is the greatest jurisconsult 
of the nineteenth century? Judge Story; an American. Who are 
the first orators of our age? Clay, Webster, Everett, Sumner; 
all Americans. Who are the first historians ? Prescott, Ban- 
croft, Lothrop Motley, Ticknor; Americans. Who is the first 
naturalist ? James Audubon ; an American. Who are the great- 
est moralists and truest sages of our times ? Ohanning, Emer- 



THE SCHOOL. 291 

BOn, Parker ; all Americans. "Who are the first novelists of our 
age? Harriet Beecher Stowe;* an American. "Who have been 
the greatest inventors? Whitney, who invented the cotton 
gin, Fulton, who created the steamboat, Morse, who discovered 
the electric telegraph, Maury, who traced infallible routes over 
the seas ; all Americans. 

"Courage then, sons of the Puritans! the future is yours. 
Before the close of the century you will be a hundred million men. 
"What will enslaved and divided Europe be before you ? Nature 
has given you the largest lakes, the largest rivers, the finest har- 
bors. You have fertile lands, and in inexhaustible quantity. 
Your coal mines are as large as those of Prance. Industry has 
given you more railroads, more steamboats, more ships, than all 
your rivals together. Your men are the bravest, the most dar- 
ing, the most ingenious in the universe ; your women are the most 
beautiful in creation. Courage then, race blessed of heaven! 
the world is thine, for thou art at once the freest and the most 
Christian of peoples." 

" My dear friend," said I to Humbug, " among the 
virtues which you teach your little saints, do you num- 
ber modesty ?" 

" A little indulgence, my dear doctor," rej^lied he, with 
an embarrassed air. " In bringing up children it is well 
to strain patriotism a little. It is the means of prevent- 
ing selfishness later from taking the lead. I avow, more- 
over, that vanity is our weak side. Our prodigious 
growth turns our head, and makes us run into more than 
one fault. But let him who is without sin cast the first 

* This was also the opinion of Alfred de Musset. One day when 
we found him bending over "Uncle Tom's Cabin," which he was de- 
vouring, his eyes filled with tears, he said, with the profoundest emo- 
tion, "This is the finest book of the time. Mrs. Stowe has found, in 
ihejloio of her hearty artistic effects such as none of us, who think our- 
selves artist!?, is capable of finding in his mind." 



292 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

stone. John Bull is convinced that, by right of birth, he 
is king of the seas ; and I am sure that in France it 
is repeated in every key to the youth that the French 
are the first people on the earth, and that the world has 
eyes only to admire them." 

" What a difference !" exclaimed I. " France is 
France !" 

" America is America !" answered he, laughing. " All 
Christians are imbued with the same madness. There is 
no folly into which a nation may. not be drawn by crying 
with assurance, ' Englishmen, steal this province, you 
are English! Frenchmen, fight, right or wrong, you are 
French ! Americans, be insolent to Europe, you are 
Americans !' The national pride is the red flag which is 
held out to the popular bull when it is wished to make 
him fall head-foremost into a snare. My dear friend, let 
us scatter education broadcast, let us carry enlightenment 
everywhere, if we would not have the people the eternal 
dupe of charlatans, who play with its noblest passions and 
best instincts." 

At this moment the clock struck ; it was the hour of 
recreation. I hastened to the yard, where I found the 
amiable Naaman become the captain of a new band. 
Three or four hundred children Avere ranged in columns, 
the girls on one side, the boys on the other. A glass 
door looking on the court was opened, a piano rolled to 
it, and Susan and Dinah struck up in concert Oberon's 
march. Directly the columns began to move: they 
skipped, they ran, they paused, in measure. The chain 
separated and linked itself together again with admirable 
precision. It was a mingling of dancing and gymnastics 
which charmed the eyes — something at once noble, bold, 
and graceful. Was it not thus that the Greeks exercised 



THE SCHOOL. 293 

youth ? For the first time I comprehended why Plato 
placed music and dancing among the duties of the citi- 
zen. I was delighted, and, despite my grey beard, and 
without a remnant of shame, would wilHngly have taken 
my place in this military ballet. "Why should I not 
dance with children ? the Spartans did so. 

" My young friend," said I to Naaman, " this is charm- 
ing, my heart is rejoiced at the spectacle ; but solve one 
doubt for me — where am I ? where have I been carried ? 
This beautiful house, these elegant tables, these hand- 
some books bound in sheep ; all these, doubtless, belong 
to a private school, where only rich children are re- 
ceived. Who is the superintendent of this fine establish- 
ment?" 

" Still jesting, doctor," said the handsome pastor. 
" You are in the primary school of the twelfth ward, 
third district. "We have eighty houses of this kind in 
our good city of Paris, and this is not enough." 

"Very well; but how can the son of the poor man de- 
fray the expenses of this costly education ?" 

" Where do you come from ?" exclaimed Naaman. 
"Do you not know that education is gratuitous ? Have 
you never looked at your share of the taxes ? We are 
the sons of those Puritans who, scarcely landed on the 
arid rock of Plymouth, opened schools to combat Satan, 
whose true name is ignorance. The diabolical part of us 
is the animal ; the divine part, the mind. Schools are our 
passion and weakness ; therefore they are the great item 
in our expenditures, what war and the navy are among 
civilized people. Here, in our Massachusetts, the expense 
of schools is nearly one-fourth of our total expenses ; in 
the little State of Maine it is one-third, which would be 
to France a total of over a million dollars." 



294 PARIS IN AMEKICA. 

"Great God !" thought I, " if these men are not fools, 
what are we ? Tell me, Mr. ISTaaman, who votes these 
funds, and how are your schools administered ?" 

" The vote is general," said he ; " aU the inhabitants 
fix the amount of the tax ; it is perhaps the only expense 
which continually increases with the approbation of those 
who pay it. On this point, there is no party in America ; 
all communions, all opinions rival each other in making 
our schools the richest and best endowed institutions of 
the country." 

" And naturally," said I, " each communion seeks to 
rule in them." 

" No," returned he ; " this will astonish you, perhaps, 
but no church influence ©nters within these walls. Every 
day commences with the Lord's Prayer and reading of 
the Bible, but accompanied by no comment. The in- 
struction is Christian through the spirit of our teachers ; 
it is neither Catholic nor Protestant. Here, we give our 
children the means of seeking truth; we arm them 
against ignorance ; we prepare them to fight the good 
fight. As to dogmatic teaching, it is reserved for the 
church and the Sunday Schools. In this manner we avoid 
troubling these young consciences, and notwithstanding 
accustom our children to consider themselves all as 
brothers in Jesus Christ." 

"Well; but who is answerable to you for the 
teachers ?" 

" The Board of Education," said N"aaman — " a board 
freely elected by all the citizens of the same district, and 
which has over it the central board of the State. These 
boards number the leading men of the country. It is an 
honor to be called to watch over education; our best 
citizens, the Horace Manns and Barnards have refused a 



THE SCHOOL. 295 

place in the federal senate to remain superintendents of 
our schools in Massachusetts and Connecticut." 

" Is it possible ?" I exclaimed. 

"What is there astonishing?" rejoined the young 
minister. " Do you believe that in a country like ours, 
we have yet to ask what makes the prosperity and great- 
ness of nations ? In a republic, in a state where the 
people are sovereign, it is necessary to conquer igno- 
rance or be slam by it ; there is no medium. To rear a 
people that believes in truth and loves it, our politicians 
have found but one means — to enlighten it, to make the 
most obscure citizen a man learned enough not to be 
deceived, and wise enough to govern himself." 

" And have you solved the problem ?" 

" Yes, the j^roblem was solved on the day that we had 
schools so well kept and so completely gratuitous that a 
father could no longer be found who would dare refuse 
us his children. When the district furnishes everything, 
even to pen, ink, and paper, who would be mad or cri- 
minal enough not to j^rofit by the national munificence, 
and to condemn his children to ignorance and wretched- 
ness ?" 

" I hope," said I, " that the education is compulsory. 
After such sacrifices, the State has a right to force peoj^le 
to be instructed. It cannot sufier brutes in society." 

" We have rejected all constramt," rej^Hed the young 
pastor. " Not that we doubt our right ; but we fear to 
attach an odious idea to a benefit. Fines and imprison- 
ment would make our schools hated; we leave these 
harsh measures to governments who care more for the 
obedience than the love of the citizens. To render edu- 
cation universal is the whole question ; we have attained 
this excellent end without encroaching on liberty. Our 



296 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

schools, ojDen to all children under sixteen, allure and 
attract the most rebellious. In New England, you will 
not find a citizen, born in the country, who has not 
received instruction from us." 

" Bravo !" exclaimed I. " This is a work which does 
the greatest honor to the Christians of America." 

" Politics finds its advantage in it, no less than reli- 
gion," resumed he ; " we have arrived at a result which 
may well surprise the moderns. By the perfection of 
our schools, we have reestablished, without knowing it, 
the common education so dear to antiquity Our course 
of instruction is high enough to j^repare the child of the 
rich man to enter college; it is simple enough not to 
appal the child of the poor man, and substantial enough 
to enable him to hold his place in society without ever 
having to blush at his ignorance. Here all the youth 
(mark well this sentence — all the youth) come to learn 
reading, writing, arithmetic, geometry, and drawing. 
We join to these a little geography, history, physics, and 
chemistry, and do not fear to speak to these children of 
ethics and ]?olitics. We explain to them the Constitution 
of their country — they are citizens. Thanks to the rich- 
ness and solidity of our lessons, the son of the millionaire 
comes to study side by side with the son of the Irish 
laborer. I see yonder one of Green's daughters playing 
with the child of a poor apple-woman of Walnut Street. 
Here true equality reigns, equality from above, the 
equality which elevates ; here patriotism and the love of 
liberty are maintained. To form a generation is to form 
a people. This is our motto, this is what makes our 
schools a place dear to all, and sacred for all." 

" This is good," exclaimed I, " this is great ; but for- 
give me a last scruple. When you have instructed the 



THE SCHOOL. 297 

children of the people, do you not fear to have inspired 
them at the same time with a perverse ambition ? Do 
you not cast on society men discontented with their lot ? 
Have you not given them desires, and needs above their 
condition ?" 

" This," said ^NTaaman, " is an old objection, which has 
long since ceased to pass current in America. If we 
abandoned our youth on leaving these walls, your fears 
would be well founded ; but reflect that our society and 
our government are schools which never close. On one 
hand, all our enlightened men make it an honor and a 
pleasure to instruct the citizens. See our walls, covered 
with placards ; there is not an evening on which there is 
not some political, literary, or scientific lecture. "VVe are 
inundated with enlightenment ; we must be doubly blind 
to remain ignorant. By the side of this free teaching, 
place the church, always active, and the thousands of 
meetings where the rich and poor are constantly united 
for works of propagandism or charity. Join to these 
political life, w^hich agitates all ideas and fructifies all 
souls. Lastly, and in the first rank, put the press; that 
is, the public speech, which is never hushed. There is 
not a church, not an association, not a body, not an indi- 
vidual, that has not its journal. The children, even, have 
theirs. The ChilcVs Papei\ established four years ago, 
has already three hundred thousand readers, the oldest 
of which is not fifteen. Who could resist this continually 
rising tide ? Who would not be carried away by this 
wave of civilization, bearing humanity towards a better 
future ?"- 

" Thus, you are a people of scholars ?" 

" No," said he, smiling ; *' erudition, like the arts, is 
13* 



298 PARIS IN AMEKICA. 

the luxury of old nations ; we do not yet possess it. We 
are parvenus. A century, perhaps, will be needed for us to 
have the leisure which permits disinterested cultivation ; 
but I venture to say that we are the least ignorant people 
that the sun has ever seen. Look around you ; here are 
no i^easants, but farmers ; no laborers, but artizans. On 
leaving his forge, the smith puts on a black coat, and 
goes to hear a lecture on Washington, or on the new 
discoveries of Livingstone in Africa ; his neighbor, the 
jeweller, goes to practise in a school of design, or to 
attend a chemical course. Despite their grimy hands, 
they are gentlemen ; they love the pleasures of the mind 
quite as much as you can love them. Go to the West ; 
enter a log house, buried in the forest; you will be 
received by the w^ife of the pioneer, and will see her 
knead bread and make butter. Wait till evening ; this 
same woman Avill sit down at the piano, anfl will con- 
verse with you of politics, morals, and perhaps metaphy- 
sics. To read the Perfect Cook does not prevent her 
from appreciating Emerson and relishing Channing. We 
do not give to all material wealth, although competence 
may be easier to win in America than in any other coun- 
try, but we offer to all that wealth which fears neither 
rust nor thieves. We place within the reach of the 
poorest those intellectual enjoyments which, at every age 
and in every condition, are strength and consolation. Li 
doing this, we believe ourselves fulfilling the promise of 
the divine Master, and leading men to God, in cultivating 
their mind and heart." 

I gazed at the young man with an emotion which I 
could no longer control; never had I seen human counte- 
nance beam with such enthusiasm and faith. To Naaman 



THE SCHOOL. 290 

science and religion were a double name for triitli ; both 
clung to his heart with the same force ; he loved them 
both with the same love. 

" My friend," said I, " you have conquered. Behold 
me, like St. Paul on the way to Damascus, overpowered 
with light, and hearing a voice, crying, ' It is hard to 
kick against the pricks.' I surrender; my eyes are 
opened ; I see, I admire the greatness of this country. 
What an intense life! The heart, the thought, all is 
action ; no impediment ; no barrier ; man is master of his 
destiny ; he has his happiness and virtue in his own hands. 
Here is no official falsehood, the truth rules ; no preju- 
dices, no fetters ; everywhere resounds the cry of a peo- 
I^le intoxicated with hope. — Forward ! forward ! to a 
world where wretchedness will be cured, where force will 
be overthrown, where mind will rule. I am proud to be 
a citizen of this glorious country. Long live liberty ! 
Long live the United States ! Long live the great 
republic ! " 

My voice was drowned by the roll of drums, followed 
by a flourish of trumpets. Two Zouaves entered the 
school-room ; one ran to Susan, and tenderly took her 
hand — it was Alfred; the other threw himself on my 
neck — it was my son Henry. 

" Father," said he, " the Southerners have crossed the 
Potomac ; Washington is in danger ; the militia is called 
out ; volunteers are called for ; we set out to-night. 
Come quickly ; mother is waiting for you." 



300 PAKIS IN AMEKICA. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE DEPAETUKE OF THE VOLTJNTEEES« 

Followed by my children, I quitted this peaceful 
retreat, where I had at last surprised the secret of 
American greatness. The city had changed aspect ; the 
houses were decked with flags. At every window the 
Federal banner, agitated by the breeze, unrolled its red 
and blue stripes and thirty-four stars as a mute protest in 
favor of the Union. Here and there an immense placard 
announced- the disaster to the Federal army, and ^called 
the citizens to the aid of the country in danger. Armed 
battalions were marching through the streets to the 
sound of drums and fifes. The churches were filled to 
overflowing with volunteers invoking the God of their 
fathers before marching to battle. Everywhere warlike 
songs mingled with religious hymns ; fathers, mothers, 
and sisters accompanied the young soldiers, encouraging 
them, weeping, grasping their hands, embracing them, 
and raising their eyes to heaven. It was the fervor of a 
crusade ! 

I I'eached home greatly agitated. A Parisian, I had 
lived and grown up amidst riots and civil war, which 
had left me sorrowful memories ; but here, in this depar- 
ture to the frontiers, in this enthusiasm which impelled a 
whole people to arms, there was something so noble and 
great, that I felt myself exalted. The perils even which 
Henry and Alfred were to brave did not terrify me ; a 
secret voice urged me to depart with them. Had I not 



DEPABTURE OF THE VOLTTHTEEKS. 301 

also a fireside and family to defend ? Was not America, 
where I possessed such cherished treasures, my country? 

At my door I found a whole regiment of Zouaves, 
formed by the volunteers of the district. Old Colonel 
St. John was hoisted on a white horse ; the brave vete- 
ran forgot his rheumatism and wounds to lead the youth 
to battle. By the side of the colonel marched Rose, in 
a captain's uniform, accompanied by his eight sons, and 
four handsome young men, the sons of Green. Fox, be- 
come heutenant, was in the midst of a group, haranguing, 
gesticulating, and breathing nothing but blood and jcar- 
nage. His false collar and snufl>box did not match very 
well with his uniform; and would have made me laugh 
on another occasion ; but he spoke with so much fire that 
I detected in him a martial air. There was something 
else here than a soldier by profession — a citizen resolved 
to die for his country. 

" Neighbor," said Rose to me, '■' we count on you ; it 
is for the elders to set the example. We need a surgeon 
for our regiment of Zouaves ; you have been chosen 
unanimously. . Nothing is lacking but your consent." 

'' You have it," exclaimed I. " Yes, my good friends, 
I will go Avith you ; I will be at hand to watch over 
these children, and if need be to shoulder arms with 
them. Hurrah for the Union ! Hurrah for the country !" 

The cry was reechoed throughout the ranks, mingled 
with that of "Hurrah for Daniel! Hurrah for the 
major !" I felt elated to the heart by the acclamations 
of these brave youth. I entered my house with an erect 
head and sparkhng eye. A new life awakened in my 
80ul. I was happy ! 

Jenny, in tears, threw herself in my anns, but did not 
even attempt to shake my courage. It seemed natural 



302 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

to her that the father should accompany the son, and 
that the women alone should stay at home. Susan was 
no less resolute ; one saw by her pallor that she was 
deeply agitated ; her lips moved in prayer, her eyes were 
raised to heaven, but she did not say a word that could 
trouble Alfred, and appeared occupied solely in j^repar- 
ing for our departure. Dear women ! they too compre- 
hended duty and loved the country ! 

A few hours sufficed for me to procure a surgeon's 
uniform. Rose made me a present of an excellent case 
of instruments ; I purchased a sword, a pair of revolvers, 
and a horse. In three hours I was ready ; we were to 
set out the same evening. 

Hitherto, I had not reflected ; French impetuosity had 
carried me away. But at the moment of quittmg the 
house where I had passed so many and well-filled hours, 
I exj^erienced an indescribable sadness. It seemed to 
me that, once gone, I should never return. And if I 
returned, would I bring with me my Henry, and Alfred 
whom I was beginning to love as a son ? 

I was shaking ofi" these sad thoughts which, continually 
repulsed, returned unceasingly to the attack, when the 
old colonel entered my house ; the sight of him did me 
good. He was one of those brave soldiers, lavish of 
their own blood, and sj)armg of that of others; avc 
could not have had a more honorable and surer leader. 

" Colonel," said I, after receiving his congratulations, 
" here we are alone, I can speak to you plainly. Be- 
tween ourselves, what value do you set on these raw 
recruits ? Enthusiasm is a fine thing, but what is it by 
the side of exercise and discipline ? Despite the courage 
of these good young men, their battalions will break at 
the first fire." 



DEPARTUKE OF THE VOLUNTEERS. 303 

" Patience, major," answered the veteran. " I am less 
severe than you ; nevertheless, I have been engaged in 
war all my life. Two months in the forts at Washing- 
ton will transform these volunteers into soldiers. Dis- 
cipline is of great value, doubtless, but it is a trade within 
the reach of the most ignorant. Heart, faith, the love 
of country — these are not given at will. Herein is the 
mainspring of action, w^hatever worthless fellows who 
carry a sword may say. To handle the bayonet needs 
an adroit and vigorous arm ; but it is the soul that 
makes the strength of the arm. A few years of war and 
sufferings suffice to educate a people and bring both 
enemies to the same point. Moral energy then remains, 
this it is that wins in the end ; and this is why the best 
armies are armies of citizens." 

"Excuse me, colonel; I thought that nothing was 
equal to veterans." 

" A mistake," said St. John. " In a review or parade, 
the thing is possible ; for war, it is different. Good offi- 
cers, young soldiers, and old generals — these are what 
we need. To march without complaining, to obey with- 
out murmuring, to brave danger with head erect, to 
march to death smiling, there is nothing like young men. 
The more intelligent, pious, and patriotic is youth, the 
more we can count on it. Old Europe has other ideas. 
There, prejudice and the adoration of brute force still 
rule. Here, civilization has enlightened us. Doubtless 
the victory will always belong to the general who, at the 
decisive moment, shall throw upon a given point the 
most numerous battalions ; but, conditions being equal, 
a young and patriotic soldier is more valuable than a 
mercenary grown old in the trade. See the Crimean 
war : certainly, the Biissian and English veterans fought 



304 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

well; but to Avhom belongs the crown, if not to the 
French conscripts — heroic children, a day from the 
plough — peasants yesterday, citizens to-morrow ! These 
are our model ; these are what we will make likewise of 
our young Americans." 

" You have no generals," said I ; " your country is a 
pacific land, which, until now, has brought forth more 
farmers and merchants than Ctesars." 

" Be tranquil," answered the colonel ; " you will have 
generals, and more than you want. War is like the 
chase — a very common occupation, in which some excel 
from the beginning. He who is to-day a blacksmith, 
mechanist, lawyer, doctor perhaps, to-morrow will 
awaken a general in the land. Open history : there are 
sterile epochs when letters, arts, industry, are dead; 
there are none which lack soldiers. Man has hunting 
and sanguinary instincts which peace represses, but 
never destroys ; let war come, you will have heroes ; 
Heaven grant that the people may esteem them at their 
just value, and not sacrifice liberty to them !" 

"Really, colonel," said I, "you speak of war with 
little respect." 

"It is because I have been engaged in it," said he 
sadly. " I know what this bloody game is worth. Let 
rhetoricians, quietly seated in their chimney corner, 
amuse themselves by celebrating battles and glory; I 
shrug my shoulders at these paradoxes; war is the 
greatest of scourges, the foe of labor and liberty, the 
destruction of civilization. Wo to those whose ambition 
lets loose on the earth this abominable pestilence, but 
thrice accursed be those who lift their parricidal hand 
against their country ! With God's help, we will make 
them expiate their crime ! War is also the chastisement 



DEPAETUEE OF THE VOLUNTEERS. 805 

of pride and folly — a cruel lesson, which is learned only 
when it is too late." 

The sound of the clarionet announced the moment of 
farewell. I went down, holding Alfred and Henry by 
the hand. Jenny embraced all three of us, with the 
courage of a Christian wife and mother. Susan, silent 
and agitated, gave each of us a Bible, with which we 
were never more to part. Martha had prepared a pro- 
phetic sermon; but, at the first word, the poor girl 
broke into a terrible sob, and, taking Henry in her arms 
like a child, she inundated him Avith tears and kisses. I 
grasped her hand; she flung herself on my neck; I 
mounted my horse half strangled. 

At the same instant Sambo ran up, with an absurd 
accoutrement — a red and blue sash, plumed hat, and 
sabre trailing on the pavement. 

" Massa," cried he, " take me ; I am brave. If my 
skin is black, my blood is red. If they do not kill me 
before victory, I will beat them all." 

It was not without difiiculty that I rid myself of the 
poor fellow. I reasoned with him most wisely to prove 
to him that his courage was ridiculous. When one has 
woolly hair, he is born, not to beat, but to be beaten. 
Yain words! Sambo had too acute a facial angle to 
grasp the great discoveries of our Avits. The poor devil 
believed himself a man, a Christian, and a citizen — yet his 
skin was black ! It was madness ! We were obliged to 
employ threats to make him return to the house, whither 
he fled howling. It was time to end this sad comedy ; 
the ranks were formed, the drums beat, we departed. 

So long as I felt myself near home, I dared not turn 
back ; tears were in my eyes, and I did not wisL them 
to flow ; but at the corner of the street I looked behind 



306 PARIS m AMEKICA. 

me ; the three women were waving their handkerchiefs, 
and following us with a long look. My heart beat 
loudly. "Oh, God!" I cried, "I confide to thee all I 
love!" For the first time, I wept, I prayed, and felt 
comforted. 

At four o'clock, we were ranged in battle array in the 
public square. Green passed us in review, and spoke to 
us of the country with an emotion which bordered on 
eloquence. His voice was drowned by our acclamations. 
Then all retired in silence, each meditating to himself. 
Alone, perhaps, of the regiment, I was agitated. Strange 
to say, I was in haste to encounter fire. In a moment of 
repose, I passed before my companions, laughing, talk- 
ing, and gesticulating, having a word for every soldier ; 
I ralhed those who were moved, I encouraged those who 
tried to smile, I promised all my aid at the moment of 
danger ; I was already feverish for battle. 

Humbug, who had rejoined me on the square, gazed 
at me with an air of astonishment. 

" What a man you are, doctor," said he, sighing. " I 
admire your good humor and gaiety. You were a 
timid citizen ; here you are a bold soldier. Are you 
Irish ? Have you in your veins the blood, 

' N'on paventis funera Gallise 2' 

We Saxons, we go on the field of battle, 

' Devota morti pectora liberaB ;' 

but we have neither this grace, nor elegance, nor bravery. 
In truth, to see you, the combat seems a festival and 
danger a pleasure. You would give the most fastidious 
a wish to die !" 

The roll of the drums drowned my answer ; Humbug 



DEPARTURE OF THE VOLUNTEERS. 307 

embraced me tenderly and styled me in Latin the half 
of his soul ; an instant later, I had quitted my old friend 
forever. 

The evening was beautiful; the moon, rising^.early, 
lighted the distant meadows, edged with poplars and in- 
tersected by willows ; in the horizon, a river unrolled its 
silvery waves ; there was a sort of charm in letting one's 
self be borne onward by his horse, and abandoning him- 
self to reverie in the midst of this beautiful country. The 
soldier's happiness is the enjoyment of the present mo- 
ment without care for the morrow. I had yielded for 
some time to the pleasure of dreaming with my eyes 
open, when two horsemen drew up by my side. I raised 
my head ; to my great surprise, I recognized the sombre 
Brown and the amiable Truth. 

" What are you doing here ?" asked I. " What 
means this great hat, this heavy overcoat, this sword by 
your side ? it is neither the costume of a soldier nor a 
pastor." 

" Doctor," said the Puritan, " war is a cruel malady ; 
it endangers the soul no less than the body ; you care for 
the one, we for the other ; we are physicians like you." 

"I am delighted to have you as comrades," said I; 
" but it is a rude vocation. A surgeon is inured to it ; 
tenderness is to him an unknown evil; that the hand 
may not tremble, the heart must be silent. But you. 
Truth, how will you resist the cry of the wounded, the 
despair of the dymg ?" 

" It is my duty," said he. " God will give me the 
strength, as long as he deems my service useful or neces- 
sary. I belong to the Lord." 

The stage was not a long one ; at eight o'clock we 
halted. The colonel had wished to teach us to march ; 



308 TAEIS IN AMERICA. 

the lesson was not useless, the regiment had the appear- 
ance of a flock of sheep in flight. Nevertheless, the 
brave Colonel St. John compliDiented all the novices, 
accustoming them by degrees to look on him as a father 
and have confidence in him. 

" Major," said he, " do not laugh. Before a month, 
we shall equal the Prussians. When a man believes him- 
self a soldier, he is half one already ; you will see what 
an army of citizens is." 

The bivouac was pitched in the midst of the fields. 
The fires lighted and horses picketed, we su2:)ped heartily 
on the provisions which each one had brought. To con- 
scripts, this first repast in the open air was a festival ; 
war had not yet inspired them with regret of comfort 
and love of the fireside. 

The supper ended, and it did not last long, the sol- 
diers, instead of laughing and shouting, seated themselves 
in silence on their cloaks to listen to the minister. Our 
staff formed a circle ; Truth advanced in the midst of us, 
and, opening the Bible, read in an inspired voice the 
psalm sung by David when the Lord had delivered him 
from his enemies. 

" The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer ; 
my God, my strength, in whom I will trust ; my buckler, and 
the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. 

"I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so 
shall I be saved from my enemies. . . . 

" For who is God save the Lord ? or who is a rock save our 
God? . . . 

"He teacheth my hands to war, so that a bow of steel is 
broken by mine arms. . . . 

" I have pursued mine enemies, and overtaken them : neither 
did I turn again till they were consumed. 



DEPARTURE OF THE VOLrNTEERS. 309 

"I have wounded tliem that they were not able to rise: tliey 
are fallen under my feet. . . . 

" They cried, but there was none to save them : even unto 
the Lord, but he answered them not. 

" Then did I beat them small as the dust before the wind : I 
did cast them out as the dirt in the streets. . . . 

" The Lord liveth ; and blessed be my Rock ; and let the God 
of my salvation be exalted." 

While Truth recited this beautiful poem, I looked 
about me. All the officers were listening prayerfully, 
their eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and faith. The last 
flames of our dying fires illumined these noble faces, and 
cast upon them an indescribable, mysterious lustre. I 
fancied myself transported back to the middle of the six- 
teenth century, mto a camp of Roundheads. " And it is 
to these,", thought I, "it is to these people that our 
journals of Paris deny all patriotism and religion! IsTo, 
military tyranny will never be established over this gen- 
erous land ; this soil, opened and fructified by the Puri- 
tans, can bring forth naught but liberty." 

The reading ended, I shook hands with Truth, then, 
profiting by my privilege, inspected all the companies, 
in search of my son and Alfred. I found them both, 
stretched on the ground, wrapped in their cloaks, and 
talking in a low voice. Of what were they talking ? I 
knew well. 

" Children," said I, " a soldier must husband all his 
strength ; and the first condition of this is to sleep. 
Make room for me between you, and dream with your 
eyes shut." 

Upon which I embraced both my sons tenderly, care- 
fully wrapped my cloak about me, pulled my cap over 



310 PARIS IN AJklEEICA. 

my eyes, and fell asleep as tranquil and light-hearted as 
if in my own house. When one devotes himself for his 
country, when he is permitted to sacrifice himself for 
what he loves, fatigue is sweet, even danger has its 
attractions. 



A PLEASUEE VOYAGE. 311 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

A PLEASUEE VOYAGE. 

In the midst of my peaceful slumber I had a vision. 
A man, or rather a phantom, with mocking eye and 
wrinkled brow was stretched upon me, stifling me. I 
recognized Jonathan Dream ; he alone had this terrible 
glance. 

"Well, doctor," said he, in a piercing voice, "the 
thing is proved ; you no longer doubt magnetism and its 
miracles. Here you are, become a Yankee in eight 
days." 

" Yes," murmured I, " and I am proud of it. I have a 
wife and children according to my heart ; I have a 
country to love, liberty to serve and defend ; I am mas- 
ter of my hfe, I beheve the Gospel, I am happy. If this 
be a dream, for pity's sake do not awaken me." 

" Bravo !" cried the voice ; " I am avenged. On the 
way now to France, to Paris !" 

I felt a hand put aside my cloak and gUde beneath my 
cap. I sprang to my feet, and sought to cry out. Vain 
effort ! I was magnetised. An invisible hand seized me 
by the only lock of hair left on my bald forehead, and 
drew me into the air with frightful rapidity. 

I had not yet recovered from a very natural emotion, 
when I found myself hovering in the sky hke a bird, and 
fluttering above my house. The traitor who had de- 
prived me of speech, and who still held me suspended, 
lowered me to the parlor window. In my cherished 



312 PARIS m AMERICA. 

abode I perceived, gathered around a work-table, my 
Jenny, my Susan, and Martha. Poor Sambo was seated 
on the floor, sobbing in a corner. Susan, in a voice 
broken by sobs, was reading the Gospel. Jenny and 
Martha were tearing bandages and scraping lint. 

My heart called to them and blessed them. Jenny 
directly raised her head. 

" Susan," said she, trembling, " it seems to me that I 
hear your father. I am sure that he is thinking of us at 
this moment." 

" Mamma," returned Susan, " what you say is strange: 
I have the same presentiment." 

" The effect of magnetism," murmured Jonathan, laugh- 
ing in a sinister manner. " What do you" say to this ex- 
periment, learned doctor ?" 

" O God !" said Jenny rising, " thou who hast given 
me my husband, and commanded me to love him, protect 
him, I entreat thee. Put away danger and death from 
him and from my children. But, before all, O Lord, thy 
will be done, and thy name be praised !" 

" Amen," said Susan ; " Amen," said Martha. The 
three women burst into tears, while Sambo stuffed a 
handkerchief into his mouth to stifle his cries. 

Oh, my beloved ones! I was opening my arms to 
you, when a second time I was hurled into space and 
borne away by an irresistible force. In the twinkling of 
an eye, the great city disappeared, with its flickering- 
lights. After the city vanished the fields, the meadows, 
the woods, the earth. I heard nothing longer but the 
whistle of the wind and the moan of the waves. I per- 
ceived, as at the bottom of an abyss, the waters trembling 
beneath the pale beams of the moon : I was ten thousand 
feet above the ocean. 



A PLEASURE VOYAGE. 313 

" Let US talk now," said the terrible sorcerer, who 
hovered above me like an eagle with a pigeon in his 
claws. " Dr. Lefebvre, I restore you your speech. I 
shall be delighted to enjoy your agreeable conversation." 

" Monster !" exclaimed I, " how long shall I be thy 
victim ?" 

" My good friend," replied he, sneeringly, " you are 
not polite. To say thou to a man whom you have seen 
but twice is rude — it is more than awkward. I have 
only to open my hand to precipitate you into the waves ; 
nor do I think that the French gendarmery, despite its 
vigilance, would be of much use to you here. Be court- 
eous, therefore, and amuse me. I am tired ; I have lost 
a great deal of fluid, it is difficult for me to make more 
than a hundred leagues an hour : we shall not be at Paris 
before to-morrow morning. There remains a whole 
night for us to travel together ; the weather is tine, the 
route pleasant, let us be friends and talk." 

Of what can one talk in the clouds, if not of meta- 
physics ? 

" Mr. Jonathan," said I, assuming my most respectful 
tone, " do you believe in God ?" 

" God !" exclaimed he, in the tone of a professor, as if 
repeating a lesson — " God is an old-fashioned word ; it is 
the personalization of ideality." 
' " Speak French !" exclaimed I. 

" So be it," said he. " God is the idealization of per- 
sonality." 

" If this is your French, Mr. Sorcerer, for pity's sake 
speak Greek to me." 

" Very well," said he, in a courteous tone. " God is 
the category of the ideal ; nothing more." 

" I do not understand," said I. 
14 



314 PARIS IN AMEEICA. 

'' It IS because you do not know German," replied he. 
*' Philosoj^hy is a peculiar language, which comes to us 
from beyond the Rhine. I have seen illustrious scholars 
who had spoken it for twenty years without understand- 
ing it, and had been none the less applauded for it." 

" ExjDlain your system to me," resumed I, with forced 
gentleness. " You are a great man, a genius ; I shall be 
delighted to instruct myself in your school. Have the 
kindness also not to pull my hair quite so hard ; my 
head is sensitive ; and I am sure that Absalom had 
some trouble in philosophising, suspended to his tree." 

" I am the pupil of Spinoza," said Jonathan, " but I 
have been further than my master. There is neither mat- 
ter nor spirit in the world : there is nothing but a collec- 
tion of organized forces, which are diversified to infinity. 
Plants, animals, men ; so many forms of this imiversal 
life ; so many bubbles of water, which rise to the surface 
of the ocean of beings, then break and return to the 
abyss to emerge from it anew. Life and death are sim- 
ple phenomena, of no importance. The individual disap- 
pears, the species endures ; this is the essential point. It 
matters little whom the wheel crushe-s, provided it re- 
volves continually. This is my system ; it accepts every- 
thing." 

" And explains nothing," exclaimed I. " These forces 
— who created them ?" 

" What are you thinking of, doctor ?" answered the 
magician. " To create would be to disturb the universal 
and fatal order of things : there never was a creation. 
To suppose a commencement is to suppose a Avill ; this 
would derange the whole system." 

" I thought," said I, '' that systems were adapted to 
the facts observed ?" 



A PLEASURE VOYAGE. 815 

" That will do for natural philosophers," returned he. 
" We, on the contrary, adapt the facts to the system ; 
we are philosophers." 

" This is very ingenious," said I ; " but solve me one 
doubt. I thought that man was not very ancient on the 
earth." 

" So I thmk," said he ; " it is twelve or fifteen thou- 
sand years since man appeared ; but there was no crea- 
tion. Nature" 

" What is Nature, Mr, Dream ?" 

" It is another name for the universal force." 

" What is the universal force ?" 

" It is another name for Nature." 

" I thank you for this philosophic explanation." 

" Nature," resumed he, " experiences at certain periods 
a redoubling of energy, a sort of fever, and then she 
changes and, if necessary, transforms certain species. It 
was in this manner that man appeared on the earth ; 
according to all appearances, he is an ape or a degene- 
rated dog." 

" And speech, consciousness ?" exclaimed I. 

" Are trifles," said he. " They pertain to a simple phy- 
siological modification. A little more fineness in the 
composition of the larynx, has made of a bestial cry an 
articulate language. There is no consciousness possible 
without a nervous apparatus, consequently conscious- 
ness is a matter of nerves. An accumulation of grey 
substance, a freak of nature, sufficed to give birth to this 
lord of creation." 

" A poor lord, assuredly, if he is only the first and 
most wicked of animals." 

" Not so," said Jonathan ; " for thanks to his nervous 
apparatus, he has general ideas, and this it is that makes 



316 PARIS IN a:meriga. 

man a distinct species. He is the only animal that is 
amused and deceived by words. Man sees certain facts 
which are reproduced in regular series, and which he 
calls truths ; he imagines a universal truth which com- 
prises and supports all particular truths; he perceives 
beautiful things, and pictures to himself a beauty which 
is the model and type of all others. This is the ideal 
which allures and consoles him — it is what the good 
people call God." 

" Very well," said I ; " I begin to catch a glimpse of 
the category of the ideal. The soul is a mirror which 
reflects what does not exist ; or, if you like better, man 
sees himself in this magnifying glass, and, a new Narcissus, 
falls upon his knees before his magnified image." 

" Not bad for a novice," said the sorcerer. 

"Thus there is nothing superior to man in the uni- 
verse ?" 

" A logical conclusion," said Jonathan. 

" If there never had been any men on the earth, there 
would have been no idea of God, and consequently God 
would not exist." 

" Marvelous !" said he ; " you are becoming a philo- 
sopher." 

" No, indeed," exclaimed I ; "I know not whether 
my manner of seeir«g pertains to my strange position, 
but it seems to me that all this system of metaphysics is 
like myself, suspended in the air by a hair. What is this 
Nature with its redoublings of energy? A word to 
replace the Supreme Being who, in his goodness, volun- 
tarily created man and the world. What is this change of 
tissues, this metamorphosis of aj)paratus, if not a sonorous 
phrase which explains the unknown by the impossible ? 
What is this inconscient and immoral force which pro- 



A PLEAS UKE VOYAGE 317 

duces a creature endowed with consciou^siiess and mo- 
rality ? A chimera. At the height where I am, one judges 
things in quite a different manner, and is not satisfied 
with vain words ; physical laws, that is, an intelligent 
order, a constant and continued creation, reveal and cry 
to me that a will always active and always present sus- 
tains the universe and prevents its dissolution. I see 
Nature nowhere, I feel God everywhere." 

" Bravo ! thrice bravo !" said the magician. 

"It is not your system then that you are expound- 
ing ?" returned I, greatly astonished. 

" The system is mine," replied he, " since I stole it ; 
but I have little belief in it. Yesterday, on my way to 
Tubingen, where I was going to visit one of my good 
friends, an honest theologian who dreams continually, I 
perceived a great metaphysician who, by dint of writing, 
had fallen asleep over Hegel. I rifled him at once of his 
pipe, spectacles, and system ; when he awakes he will 
find no longer but his eyes to see with and his mind 
to reason with." 

" Poor man !" exclaimed I, " what will he do with 
these instruments which he has never used ?" 

" Bah !" said the sorcerer ; " you know little of Ger- 
man philoso23hers. They are silkworms who exist in 
books ; they spin from the first old tome that comes a 
thread with which they envelope themselves in a fine sys- 
tem, which is proof against air and fight. My man is 
only stripped to weave a new cocoon. Truth is nothing, 
logic everything. Hegel is dead, long live Schopen- 
hauer ! There is always a kmg in this dynasty of 
dreamers." 

" Sir," said I, " your jests are cruel. You should not 
hold a man ten thousand feet in the air to deride him." 



318 PAKIS IN AMEEICA. 

" Sir," said he, in a dry tone, " your questions are im- 
pertinent. How dare you ask a medium whether he 
believes in God ? We alone know what the soul is, we 
alone have in our hands the proof of its immortality." 

" What is the soul, then ?" asked I impatiently. 

" It is a magnetic force," answered Jonathan. "This 
monad, created by God and endowed with consciousness, 
makes itself an envelope, as the grain of wheat, cast in the 
earth, makes itself roots, a stalk, and blades. When the 
body has grown old, the soul, always young and active, 
throws off a decrepit covering, and takes flight to a bet- 
ter world, to seek a new form for its immortal energy. 
See yonder globes radiating in space — Jupiter, Saturn, 
Sirius — so many spheres inhabited by risen spirits. To 
ascend the infinite scale of creation, always to approach 
God without ever attaining him — such is our glorious 
destiny. Death is only a passage to a more intense life. 
Nothing is annihilated here on earth — ^no, not even an 
atom of dust ; how, then, can the consciousness become 
extinct ? Is God a capricious artist, who destroys the 
masterpiece of his greatness and goodness?" 

" Sir," exclaimed I, " these words are beautiful, and 
go to my heart ; but the proof — that proof which human- 
ity has demanded for six thousand years — give it me." 

" Nothing is easier," returned Jonathan. " Let us fly 
to Sirius, which is shining yonder above our heads ; you 
will see one of the stations which you will some day 
mhabit. It is not long since I visited Washington there." 

The offer was calculated to tempt a curious man, but 
the cursed sorcerer had already played with me ; I dis- 
trusted his magic. Fearing the annoyances of a new 
voyage, I refused ; I was wrong ; it was an opportunity 
which perhaps I shall never find again. 



A PLEASURE VOYAGE. 319 

"Are we almost at our journey's end?" asked I of 
Jonathan. 

" That is an ungracious question," said he. " Look 
down ; do you not see a S23eck of light on the sea ? It is 
the signal-light of the Arabia, which sailed from Boston 
the day I carried you to America ; it is half way to 
Europe ; there still remain six hundred leagues for us to 
travel, or six hours' journey." 

I sighed, and said no more. 

"My good friend," said the odious magician, "you 
are sulky. If you do not like discussion, if metaphysics 
affect your nerves, choose some familiar subject on which 
it will be easy for us to agree. Let us talk politics." 

" What do you think of slavery?" exclaimed I ; " what 
do you think of the fratricidal war that is rending the 
United States ? Upon this point there is but one opinion 
among honest men ; I suppose that you detest despotism 
and that you hate servitude — you, Mr. Medium, who 
doubtless respect an immortal soul, whatever may be the 
skin that covers it." 

" This is a wholly pacific question," said he, " but it is 
more delicate than you think. It is not the laws which 
make men command or obey." 

" What is it, then ?" 

" It is the magnetic fluid," replied he, with insupport- 
able phlegm. "What philosophers term will, energy, 
power, is nothing else than this fluid, which constitutes 
our soul. Each one possesses it in different and unequal 
quantity. Woman, for instance, is a more magnetic being 
than man ; therefore, you see that, in the greater part of 
the households, whatever the code may say, it is the hus- 
band who obeys. Children, whom the law subjects also 
to their parents, are domestic tyrants, who impose their 



320 PAKTS IN AMERICA. 

caprices on the whole house, and make their mother a 
slave. Why ? Because they abound in magnetism. Old 
men, on the contrary, are cold blooded, and no longer exert 
an influence on those who approach them. Lovers" 

" I beg your pardon," said I, yawning, " we are not 
talking medicine, but politics." 

" Patience," said Jonathan, in a satirical tone. " If it is 
proved that the negroes have less fluid than the whites, 
the question is decided ; slavery is legitimate." 

" Sir," said I, " your paradoxes weary me." 

" Paradoxes ! " exclaimed he. " You are behind your 
age. Doctor Rococo ; read your great historians aijd 
your great politicians ; study the question of races ; you 
will see that to-day morality is no longer but physiology !" 

I am of great natural gentleness, as all acknowledge, 
except my intimate friends, who, according to custom, 
see only my faults ; but let any one put himself in my 
place, and he will understand that I could not but 
lose patience. Suspended by the hair for six hours, 
carried I knew not whither by I knew not whom, these 
were vexations enough, Avithout having any one presume 
to difler Avith me in politics. 

" Sir," said I drily to my enemy, " carry your Avit else- 
where. I cannot entreat you to leave me, but I declare 
that henceforth I Avill no longer listen to you." 

" And how are you to help it ?" resumed lie, in a mock- 
ing voice. 

" Another Avord," exclaimed I, " is an insult, for Avhich 
you shall give me satisfaction." 

" A duel in these serene heights ! " said the sorcerer , 
"that would be original; I will reflect on it; mean- 
while, you shall listen to me, whether or no j I defy you 
to part company with me." 



A PLEASURE VOYAGE. 321 

*' Yc d do not know," said I, gnashing my teeth, " you 
do not know of what a Frenchman is caprible." 

" I beKeve him capable of all follies," returned Jona- 
than, " except those which are impossible." 

" Impossible ! " exclaimed I, " that is not a French 
word." 

Quicker than lightning, I drew a pair of scissors from 
my instrument case, and severed the lock of hair which 
held me in the power of this wretch. 

Directly I fell, whirling right and left, like a broken 
kite. At the first moment, lost in the pleasure of my 
newly regained liberty, I was not troubled at this rapid 
descent. Reflection returned to me when I heard the 
roaring of the Avaves and the whistling of the gathering 
storm. It was too late. The sea oj)ened to receive me 
into its depths, then, less fortunate than Jonah, flung me 
back upon the wave, breathless and chilled. I did not 
lose courage, but began to swim with desperate vigor. 
Five hundred leagues to make in this primitive fashion 
was a great deal, but might I not encounter some steam- 
ship on the great ocean highway ? I was gazing in the 
distance, seeking some light, and seeing nothing but 
darkness, when the horrible phantom, ready to carry 
me away, hovered over me like a swallow over a fly on 
the surface of the water. 

" Doctor," said he, sneeringly, " I hope that this bath 
has cooled your blood; let us resume the discussion 
where we left it." 

" Rather die, than listen to your detestable sophisms," 
exclaimed I ; and, clenching my fist, I struck my enemy 
so terrible a blow, that every bone in my hand cracked. 

I uttered a cry of pain, and 

14* 



322 PARIS IN AMERICA. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE SHORTEST OF THE BOOK AND MOST INTERESTIN'G 
TO THE READER. 



I awakened in my bed- 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

SOME INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 

On escaping from this danger, or rather nightmare, a 
little time was needed for mo to recognize myself. 
Where was I? In what country had my executioner 
cast me ? The curtains of the bed were closed ; I drew 
them aside. The chamber was sombre and mute ; it was 
the silence and twilight of a sick-room. When my eyes 
had become accustomed to the obscurity, I looked around 
me. A table, covered with papers, books and pam- 
phlets, piled up at random ; a bookcase, filled with books, 
stitched, bound and in boards, some standing, others 
lying ; a heap of old tomes, rising from the floor and 
forming a tottering pyramid which threatened every in- 
stant to fall — everything in its place ; it was really my 
study. I was at Paris, in France, and at last home from 
my travels. Shall I confess it ? this return to the centre 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 323 

of civilization gave me indifferent pleasure; I had gained 
a taste for liberty. 

I rang ; Jenny entered on tiptoe, and asked in a low 
voice if I had called. 

" Most certainly, my dear ; give me some light, I beg 
of you ; this room is like a tomb." 

Jenny half opened the curtains and called Susan, who 
softly put her head in the door, then paused, and looked 
at me with an anxious eye. 

" Well, miss," said I, gaily, " haven't you a kiss for 
your father to-day ?" 

Instead of throwing herself in my arms, she approached 
with a timid step, and took my hand, weeping. 

" How do you feel, papa ?" murmured she. 

" Yery well, my child, with the exception of the 
fatigue and excitement of the voyage." 

" Ah !" said Susan. " Ah !" said Jenny. 

There was in this cry so strange an accent that I gazed 
by turn at my wife and daughter ; their countenances 
were full of consternation. 

*' What is the matter with you ?" asked I. '' What 
have I said to frighten you ?" 

" My dear," said Jenny, " I entreat you, keep silence ; 
Dr. Olybrius recommends it." 

" Who is Dr. Olybrius ? Isn't he the coxcomb who 
wrote a thick volume on Xient considered in the point of 
view of Sygiene and Kqmgation f What is there in 
common between me and this sacristan pedant ?" 

" Daniel," returned Jenny, in a dry tone, " everybody 
consults Dr. Olybrius. For the last week, he has shown 
you all the care of a brother physician and friend." 

"The last week!" exclaimed I, starting up in bed. 
" You are dreaming, my dear child. How could your 



324 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

doctor have attended on me in Paris when we were in 
America ?" 

" Listen to me, Daniel," said my wife, in an agitated 
voice, " listen, and do not interrupt me ; your health and 
perhaps life depend on it. A week ago yesterday, 
Thursday, you returned home in a deplorable condition. 
You had consulted some quack who, if I am to believe 
the doctor, had administered to you a dose of opium or 
hasheesh, which might have killed you. The strength 
of your constitution, and perhaps our cares, have saved 
you. The whole week you have been in complete lethargy 
or frightful delirium. You have had terrible visions, 
which more than once have made us fear for your reason. 
To-day you have regained your senses. Dr. Olybrius pre- 
dicted it ; but he added, that the return to health de- 
manded the greatest care ; that, according to all appear- 
ances, you would need some time to shake off your 
reveries and accustom yourself again to real life, and that 
in such a crisis, repose and silence were of absolute 
necessity." 

It was my turn to look at my wife with terror. What 
fable was this, uttered with so much assurance ? I was 
certain of having been in America ; never could French 
brain have imagined what I had seen ; moreover, deli- 
rium is incoherent, and leaves no memories. But if 
Jenny had remained in France while I was in Massa- 
chusetts, who was that American Jenny whom I had 
clasped so tenderly to my heart ? Had I been a bigamist 
without suspecting it ? Were there two Susans and two 
Henrys, the one at Paris in France, the other at Paris in 
America ? Was I double ? Had I a single soul and two 
bodies ? What confusion ! what chaos ! 

" Accursed Jonathan !" murmured I ; " the devil fly 



mOONYENIENGES OF A VOYAGE TO AMEKICA. 325 

away with you and spiritism likewise ! Here I am, in a 
fine embarrassment !" 

Suddenly, the truth struck me ; I was vexed at myself 
for having Hstened to my wife, even for an instant. Had 
not Jonathan told me that I alone would preserve my 
memory, and that my family would become Yankee by 
birth ? All was explained in the most natural manner : 
Jenny was the sport of an illusion. If any one was 
dreaming in my house, it was not I, but my wife. 

This simple reflection restored me my courage and 
dignity. 

" My dear," said I to Jenny, " do not trust to appear- 
ances. Your Olybrius is a fool ; I have never been ill. 
The proof is that my pulse is not more than sixty-five, 
that I am dying of hunger, and that with your permission, 
I will rise and breakfast." 

For her sole answer, my wife burst into tears, a fash- 
ion of reasoning which Aristotle did wrong to forget ; it 
plays an important part in household rhetoric ; a husband 
teased is half conquered. 

Like a well-brought-up daughter, Susan did not fail to 
outdo her mother ; she hung on my neck, sobbing. 

" Papa !" cried she, " my darling papa, do not grieve 
us ; wait for the doctor." 

" I will wait for him on my feet, and not fasting," re- 
plied I ; " nevertheless, my children, I do not wish to 
grieve you. I am a physician ; I give you my word of 
honor that I am in excellent health ; if my assertion is 
not enough for you, call in neighbor Rose ; he is a doc- 
tor, and you will soon be reassured." 

The offer was accepted. Rose entered as soon as 
called, with so awkward and solemn a mien that I laughed 
him in the face. 



326 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

" Good morning, my old friend," said I, offering my 
hand. 

" You do me honor, sir," answered he, seating himself 
in my large easy chair. 

" Oblige me by feeling my pulse, and tell these ladies 
whether I am not in perfect health." 

He took my wrist, gravely counted the pulsations of 
the artery, and turning to Jenny with an air of astonish- 
ment : 

" If I might be permitted to have an opinion," said he, 
" I would venture to say that this pulse is not in the least 
capricious. It is regular, and even a little feeble, like that 
of a man who is fasting. The crisis is passed, admit- 
ting that there has been a crisis, which I would not dare 
affirm. I think," said he, unbending his brow, " that a 
cold chicken and a few glasses of Bordeaux are naturally 
indicated; it is a prescription which, sick or not, will 
do the doctor no harm." 

The two women went out to order my repast ; Rose, 
rising, approached me, his finger on his lips : 

" Confess, doctor," said he in a whisper, " that hence- 
forth you will play no more with opiates." 

" You too," exclaimed I. " My dear sir, oj^ium has had 
nothing to do with this matter ; I have been magnetized." 

*' Good," said he ; " you, doctor, a clear headed man, 
a free thinker, you believe in magnetism when the Aca- 
demy of Medicine refuses it the civil state ?" 

" One must yield to proof," replied I, sighing. " You 
behold a victim of this deplorable discovery. I have 
been transported to America." 

Rose drew back, pale and astounded. 

" Yes," resumed I, " I have been transported to Ame- 
rica, I, the house and the street. I saw you there, Mr. 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 327 

Rose ; you were a j^atriot, a brave soldier, a captain of 
Zouaves." 

"Be silent, in Heaven's name, be silent;" said he, 
*' what if any one else should hear you !" 

"Do you doubt my word," said I; " must you have 
^proofs?" 

" God forbid that I should contradict you," exclaimed 
the apothecary ; "we have served together in the ranks 
of the National Guard ; I esteem you a worthy man, and 
I should be very sorry if anything unpleasant happened 
to you. Listen, therefore, to the counsel dictated to me 
by the respect I bear you. Be prudent ; be discreet. 
You have been in America ; so be it ; you say so, and I 
believe you ; but in your house, every one believes the 
contrary. You are alone in your opinion. Now, you 
know the proverb, ' TTAere everybody is wrong ^ every- 
body is rights If you persist in speaMng of this mag- 
netic voyage, I am afraid that the incredulous will avenge 
themselves in their own way, and make you pass for a 
man who " 

He stopped, tapped his forehead with his finger, shook 
his head, and looked at me with an air of pity. 

"What," exclaimed I, "do you think perchance that 
my brain is deranged ?" 

" No, of course not ; I know what to believe ; but who 
can check too lively imaginations ? Your adventure is 
so extraordinary that it would be wise to keep the secret 
of it to yourself alone." 

" Mr. Rose," replied I, "sit down and let us converse ; 
you will see that my head was never clearer. How are 
your nine sons ?" 

" Very well," said he, " I thank you ; they are all in 
places, even to my Benjamin." 



328 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

"Alfred, eh?" 

" Yes," said he, smiHiig, " a handsome young man of 
twenty-four. It is a great haj^piuess to a father to have 
at last established, and well established all his family." 

" What are all your children doing ? Tell me about 
them, neighbor ; speak, incredulous ; assure yourself that 
my heart and mind are younger than at twenty." 

" The eldest," said he, " is the only one that has given 
me any trouble. He is the picture of his deceased mother. 
Headstrong, ambitious, always having ideas of his own, 
and unwilling to yield to any one, I could do nothing 
with him. I was forced, therefore to let him enter the 
Polytechnic School, which he left, as one of the first 
scholars. He might have had a fine place in the Tobaccos ; 
but he is like a wild horse that no one can curb. The 
gentleman has been roving the world ever since, with in- 
ventions in his pocket ; he is at present superintendent 
of a manufactory, and pretends that he is making a for- 
tune ; God grant that it may be so ! but manufacturing is 
a perfidious vocation ; one is never sure of having suc- 
ceeded until after he is dead. I am in constant fear for 
this child. 

" My other sons, all brought up by my care, have given 
me nothing but joy. They have received a literary edu- 
cation, and, thanks to patronage skillfully employed, I 
have pushed them all into the administration. I have 
two in the Customs, two in the General Taxes, two are 
already Collectors ; the eighth is in the Waters and Fo- 
rests ; as to my Alfred, he is private secretary of a pre- 
fect, and on the road to greatness. In the course of a 
few years, if I obtain him some recommendations, he will 
be counsellor of prefecture with eighteen hundred francs' 
salary." 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 329 

"What!" exclaimed I, "you, Rose, a patriot; you 
have made your children clerks, when you might open 
to them an independent career, and make them citi- 
zens ?" 

"Doctor," replied the apothecary, "I have followed 
the counsel and example of men of sense. If the ser- 
vice of the State is not brilliant, it is sure. One has no 
anxiety and httle fatigue in it. If he has some small for- 
tune, he jobs at the Bourse to better his possessions ; he 
strives to marry a wife with a pretty dowry, and whose 
parents are not too young, liA^es tranquilly, and dies at 
his ease in a comfortable retreat in the suburbs of some 
provincial city." 

" It is the life of an oyster." 

'■' Oysters are happy," returned he : " that is the main 
point. Would you be a manufacturer, merchant, ship- 
per ? One day revolution ruins you ; the next, a strong 
government makes war without apprising you. Then the 
taxes, which increase annually, and crises, and competi- 
tion ! Everything conspires against the man who labors. 
Our society is not made for him. He is mad indeed 
who runs such hazards, when nothing is easier than to 
live tranquil and honored, serving his country. The ad- 
ministration — it is France! Let republicans and fasti- 
dious sjiirits bark as they will, I had rather that my 
son should be among those who eat than those who are 
eaten." 

" And to attain this you are forced to solicit — to hold 
out your hand like a mendicant." 

" Yes," said he, laughing, " I have had to stoop a 
little. Right-handed and left-handed queens — I have im- 
plored all, flattered all ; but I have succeeded, that is the 
essential point. Do not stare at me, doctor; I have done 



330 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

like every one else ; you will do the same. I am none the 
less a patriot, and still of the opposition. I am left centre, 
with all France, and I pride myself on it, between our- 
selves ; but when the future of my children is at stake, I put 
opinions which are of no service to me into my pocket." 

" To take them out again on the day of revolution ; do 
you not ?" said I, ironically. 

" Doubtless," said he, in a placid tone. " One serves 
a government, he does not destroy himself for it. It is 
one of the great advantages of the administration that it 
profits by every revolution ; the head gone, the young 
men rise ; there is a crisis every fifteen years ; happy he 
who is in a position to seize the opportunity and draw 
the lucky number !" 

" You are a wise man, Mr. Rose." 

" Simply a rdan of sense," rejoined he, with proud 
modesty. " See my Alfred, for instance ; he went 
through his studies admirably, and gained the prize for 
French oratory in the great competition. If I had lis- 
tened to him, he would have become advocate — a glorious 
career, but long, difficult, laborious, and, at present, lead- 
ing to nothing ; while, with his wit, good mien, and a 
little tact, the boy needs only two or three good chances 
to be sub-prefect in ten years, prefect in fifteen, and, per- 
haps, senator " 

" Heavens !" exclaimed I, " do you hear that noise in 
the street ?" 

Rose ran to the window. 

" It is nothing," said he ; " only a horse has stumbled, 
and a man has fallen over his head." 

" I am lost ! I shall be prosecuted again for five hun- 
dred dollars !" 

" What ails you, my dear sir ?" said the apothecary. 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 331 

amazed at my dismay. " A stranger breaking his neck 
in the street is something that we see every day. How 
can it affect you ? It is one of those misfortunes for 
which no one can be accused." 

" It at least affects your administration," said I, re- 
turning to myself, and remembering that I was no longer 
in America. 

"The administration is never responsible," replied 
Rose, in a bantering tone. " It takes care of us at oui 
own risk and peril." 

" There is an inspector." 

" Doubtless," said he ; " but the inspector is dependent 
on the prefect, who is dependent on the government, 
which is dependent on nothing but God and its sword. 
As ray late father used to say, there are three accidents 
fortuitous and without remedy — shipwreck, fire, and the 
act of the prince. Against shipwreck and fire we now 
have insurance ; against the act of the prince, there re- 
mains to us what our ancestors had — resignation." 

" Things are not thus," said I, " in " 

Rose looked at me. I bit my lips, and was silent. 

" Besides," resumed the apothecary, " you wUl soon 
be delivered from this detestable pavement, which for 
ten years has driven coachmen to despair. You will 
be expropriated next month." 

" What ! I expropriated ?" 

" Do you not know it ? The inquiry has been opened 
within the last week." 

"I object to it. I shall protest." 

" Protest ! to w^hat purpose ?" said he, with a pater- 
nal air. " My dear neighbor, you know the story of 
the earthen pot and the iron pot. Do not act wrong- 
headedly ; it is useless, and sometimes injurious. Nego- 



332 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

tiate with the administration : it will give you a reason- 
able price for your house. What more do you need ?" 

" I will not be driven from the house of my father ; 
the journals are at hand, I will write." 

"The journals!" said the apothecary; ''I wish they 
were all suppressed. Of what use have they been for 
the last ten years? Formerly, in the last reign, they 
said their say of the ministers, which was amusing ; to- 
day, I know not what ails them ; they are mute as fishes. 
They are no longer but placards. Do I want to pay fifty 
francs a year to have the prospectus of all the susj^icious 
afiairs sent to my dwelling, the praises of which are sung 
at a hundred sous a line ? If I Avere the government, I 
would oblige the journals to tell the truth; since this is 
not the case, the Mo7iiteur is enough for me, and more." 

" And you are a liberal ?" 

"A liberal and free mason until death," said he, raising 
his hand with grotesque earnestness. " For forty years, 
my political creed has not varied an iota. Long live our 
immortal Revolution, and the emperor who carried to 
Moscow the glorious principles of '89 ! Down with the 
aristocrats and emigrants ! Down with the Jesuits, who 
are the cause of all our calamities ! I am not the enemy 
of religion ; it is necessary for the people ; but I Avish 
patriotic cures and good men. I hate perfidious Albion, 
I execrate the Russian autocrat ; I wish France tO set 
free all the oppressed — Poles, Hungarians, Wallachians, 
Serbians, Greeks, Maronites, and Negroes. Further- 
more, I love peace and the arts ; we never can do 
enough for our first national scene, the French Drama, 
in which I applauded Talma in Sylla : 

*■ I have governed without fear, and I abdicate without dread. 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 333 

"I wish a strong and patriotic government, which 
listens to honest men, and silences advocates and praters. 
I Avish an army that can cope with Europe, a navy that 
defies England ; canals every where, railroads everywhere; 
I wish the government to give work and bread to every 
workingman. With these, I wish small expenses and 
few taxes. I do not mean that the state shall fatten on 
the sweat of the people. This is my symbol, and that 
of all good Frenchmen." 

"And liberty?" asked I; "I do not see it on your 
programme." 

" You are mistaken," rejoined he. " Have I not told 
you that I wish an energetic government — a govern- 
ment that will crush out all individual resistance ? The 
day that the ruling power, enlightened on our true inter- 
ests, shall force us to be free, we shall have liberty, and 
will enforce it on all the universe." 

" What do you mean by liberty ?" asked I. 

" Neighbor," said he, " this question proves how clear 
your head is. There are a host of simpletons who cry 
liberty ! liberty ! without seeing the snare spread for them 
by fanaticism and aristocracy. I wish none of those false 
liberties which are only the privilege of wealth and super- 
stition. A patriot, the friend of enlightenment, I do not 
wish a religious liberty, which would profit nothing but 
priestcraft. The priests must be muzzled, that the peo- 
ple may be free. I do not w^ish a liberty of association, 
which would serve the Capuchins ; I do not wish that 
the poor should be corrupted, in the name of charity, by 
political alms, and fed on poisoned bread. I do not wish 
a liberty of education, which would deliver up our chil- 
dren to the Jesuits. I do not wish a departmental lib- 
erty, which would reconstruct provincial federahsra. I 



834 PARIS IN AMEBIC A. 

do not wish a communal liberty, which would resuscitate 
the despotism of lord and curate, and make us serfs and 
villains. Better the hand of the state than these anar- 
chical rights, abused by agitators, aristocrats, fanatics, 
and canters. I am for the people ; long live equality !" 

I gazed with terror at this honest Beotian. "To 
think," said I to myself, " that, before my voyage to 
America, I was also at this degree of imbecility ! I, too, 
put my patriotism in the equality of servitude ; I, too, 
made public liberty consist in the destruction of all j^ri- 
vate liberties, as if, after this annihilation, anything else 
remained than the brute mechanism of the administra- 
tion. Jonathan ! Jonathan ! accursed sorcerer ! why have 
you made me a stranger in my country, or why do you 
not transport all the Frenchmen to America for a week ?" 

" Well, neighbor," said the apothecary, surprised at my 
silence, " what do you think of my principles ? Am I a 
man of the age ? Am I a patriot and Frenchman of the 
old school ? Are not these the doctrines which you have 
always defended ?" 

" You say truly, answered I ; " but, after enumerating 
all the liberties of which we are afraid, I do not see that 
we have many left." 

" Bah I " said he, " you are jesting. The liberty of 
baking — is that nothing ? And universal suffrage — is 
not that everything ? It is at the moment of balloting 
that we recognize the men who never flatter the ruling 
power. For iforty years, I can render myself the justice 
that I have never voted except with the opposition. 
They may break me ; I will not bend." 

" Meanwhile, you suffer your property to be expropri- 
ated, without saying a word." 

"Between ourselves, it annoys me," returned the 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMEEIOA. 335 

apothecary. " But how cau it be helped ? I am only 
an individual. A citizen, I brave tyrants; a simple 
licensed dealer, I do not intend to put myself on bad 
terms with the administration, of which I have need 
every day. Besides, this is a matter of principle ; pri- 
vate interest should yield to pubHc interest. Reflect 
that your house, if preserved, would over-run the line of 
the street at least two-thirds of an inch. Who would 
tolerate such a lack of symmetry ? We Parisians are all 
born with the compass in our eye. There is not a passer 
who would not be shocked at this enormity, and lampoon 
our edileship." 

" Yes," said I, " rights are nothing ; the right line is 
everything." 

" Sir," said the apothecary, " do not speak ill of the 
right line or you will give me a bad idea of your en- 
lightenment and taste." 

" You like the shortest way from one point to another 
so well then, that you would sacrifice your business to it 
without regret ?" 

" Do I like it ? Listen to me, neighbor ; I will con- 
fide a secret to you which, I am sure, will charm you as 
it has already charmed all my friends." 

" I listen with all my ears, like a man who asks only 
to be converted." 

" You see what is being made of Paris. Old houses, 
old memories, all these relics of a barbarous past are fall- 
ing daily beneath the hammer of the demolisher, and 
bemg replaced by straight streets and palaces of yester- 
day. It is magnificent ; a Parisian himself no longer 
finds his way among them. In ten years, Paris will be 
an entirely new city ; the theatre, inn, and coffee-house 
of the whole world. Well, setting out from the same 



836 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

ideas, I have conceived a bolder and more glorious pro- 
ject ; I will put all France in Paris. Provincialism will 
be dead ; there will be no longer either Auvergnats, or 
Gascons, or Savoyards ; there will be no longer even 
Frenchmen ; we shall all be Parisians. 

" The work is a great one," continued he ; " the point 
in question is to strengthen and concentrate the national 
unity, which still leaves much to be desired ; but the 
means is most simple. I prolong the boulevard de Sebas- 
topol on the one hand, to Bayonne, on the other to Dun- 
kirk ; I carry the rue de Rivoli, at one extremity, to 
Brest, and at the other to Nice. On the way, I level 
everything, that nothing may impede the right line. 
What a i^erspective ! what a horizon ! And reflect 
that the expense is nothing ! The expropriations will not 
cost dearly, and the plus value of lands will be enormous, 
since we shall be always in Paris. All the cities will be 
no longer but suburbs. 

" In the middle of the way I place a railroad ; on both 
sides are houses with arcades, that pedestrians may suf- 
fer neither from rain nor wind ; I put theatres from 
place to place, and coflee-houses everywhere. Paris thus 
becomes the promenade of the human race. This is not 
all ; I call the arts to my aid, to give style to my struc- 
tures. At the Bayonne extremity of this boulevard, two 
hundred leagues in length, I erect a statue a hundred 
and twenty feet high — Glory; at the other extremity, 
at Dunkirk — Victory. At the end of the rue de Rivoli, 
at Brest — a group of warriors ; at the bottom, at Nice, 
nymphs oflering laurels. At the centre, lastly, that is at 
Bourges, I establish a Walhalla, a gigantic Pantheon. 
A column, or rather a vast pile, composed of cannon, laid 
one above another, will raise to the clouds a sort of 



INCONVENIENCES OF A VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 337 

Minerva, with spear, casque, and buckler. This will be 
France, the queen of civilization, the arts, and peace. 
Around the column I arrange a vast jDortico, surmounted 
by explosive grenades and shells ; in the interior I place 
the statues of all our national heroes — Duguesclin, 
Dunois, Conde, Turenne, Hoche, Kleber, Massena, 
Murat, etc. Above, I place symbolic statues, each 
twenty-five feet in height ; on one side. War, protecting 
Industry and the Arts ; on the other, Conquest, bearing 
Liberty to foreign lands ; in the midst. Fortune and 
Beauty crowning Yalor. This will be noble, it will be 
imposing. Here will be one of those patriotic monu- 
ments which immortalize an age and enlarge the mind 
of twenty generations. Immensity, m uniformity — what 
an ideal !" 

"The Greeks, I believe," replied I, "m^de beauty 
consist in proportion and variety." 

" Frenchmen are not Greeks," exclaimed he ; " we are 
Romans. Nothing pleases us but hugeness and sym- 
metry ; the gigantic is the beautiful." 

I sighed, hung my head, and did not answer. 

" Well, doctor, here you are, relapsed into your 
silence. What do you think of my project ?" 

" I think," said I, shrugging my shoulders, " that I 
come from a country which occupies itself in rearing 
men instead of moving stones and building monuments. 
Porticos, columns, triumphal arches and statues form 
beautiful perspectives on the horizon ; but there is some- 
thing nobler and greater, something more living which 
diffuses in the most narrow street an indescribably happy 
light, and which makes the most dingy habitation a 
palac e — lib erty .' ' 

" Good," replied he, in the tone of an irritated author; 

15 



338 PAKIS IN AIVIERIOA. 

" here are your black butterflies come again. I feel that 
my presence is indiscreet." 

He rose ; I let him go. What had I to do with the 
old fool ? I heard hun talking to my wife in the draw- 
ing room, and distinguished the name of -Olybrius, and 
the words : " Make haste, it is time." What did these 
words signify ? I did not trouble myself about them ; I 
did very wrong. Fools are always to be mistrusted. 



A PARISIAN FAMILY. 339 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A PARISIAN FAMILY. 

At length I rose and made my toilette, but not with- 
out more than once regretting my little Anierican house. 
No bath in which to repose my wearied limbs, no fire in 
my room, no hot water ; Frenchmen have not yet learned 
that the first of domestic liberties is to have everything 
at hand, and to stand in need of no one. I was forced 
to ring without ceasing, and every stroke of the bell 
brought a solemn, formal lackey, who stared at me from 
over his white cravat, and waited on me with majestic 
pity. Where w^ere you, my poor Sambo ? you were 
awkward and ridiculous, but you loved me. 

Once shaved, I looked at myself in the glass, and expe- 
rienced some pleasure in recognizing my former counte- 
nance. Not that it was handsome, but I was accustomed 
to it ; nothing is so annoying as to seek one's self under 
a strange mask. I found my wife and daughter m the 
dining-room, awaiting me with ill-dissembled impatience. 
Jenny was embroidering tapestry, to keep herself in 
countenance ; Susan was festooning, from time to time 
she fixed a sad and terrified gaze on me. I sat down to 
the table and breakfasted, nevertheless, with a good ap- 
petite. Eight days of excitement and cold water made 
me relish with delight a French breakfast and my old 
Bordeaux. I regained my country ; my heart warmed ; 
I had poetic ideas, which never happened to me in Mas- 
sachusetts. Oh, my country ! which I love as a lover his 



340 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

mistress, always quarreHing with her, yet wishing her 
every beauty and every virtue ; oh, my beloved France ! 
thou hast more than one defect of education, but nature 
has treated thee like a spoiled child. Nothing equals the 
softness of thy sky, the wealth of thy harvests, the 
warmth of thy wines. When the fever of revolutions 
does not seize thee, thy sons are polite, amiable and 
witty; thy daughters are more subtle than their hus- 
bands. What dost thou lack, then, to be the happiest 
and noblest nation on the globe ? I^aught but that liberty 
which thou deridest and dost not know. 

" What are you thinking of, my daughter ?" said I to 
Susan, whose silence astonished me. Usually she chat- 
tered like a bird. 

" I am thinking of nothing, dear papa." 

" Indeed ? My little finger tells me that my pet is 
uneasy about her oldest friend." . 

" I will not say no, papa." 

*' Well, my child, we must drive away these bad 
thoughts. I am so well that I am anxious only about 
your happiness. My daughter, when are you going to 
be married ?" 

Jenny rose as if touched by a spring ; Susan blushed 
to the whites of her eyes. 

" No childishness !" exclaimed I. " You are almost 
twenty years old ; you are not one of those little fools 
who begin to giggle at the word, husband. If your heart 
has spoken, tell me ; I have full confidence in you, my 
dear ; I adopt in advance the son-in-law whom you have 
chosen me." 

" Susan," said my wife, in an agitated voice, " go to 
my room and bring me some worsted for my em- 
b^i'oidery." 



A PARISIAN FAMILY. 341 

Saying this, she made my daughter a sign of intelli- 
gence, which, translated into good French, signified, 
" Leave us." 

As soon as Susan had left the room, Jenny broke out. 

" Daniel," said she, " you are cruel. What has this 
child done to you ?" 

" What ! cannot I ask my daughter whether she is in 
love?" 

" My daughter, sir," resumed Jenny, " is in love with 
no one. She is an honest woman, who will do like her 
mother, and wait till her wedding-day to love the hus- 
band whom her parents shall choose for her." 

" Her Avedding-day !" exclaimed I ; " that is rather 
late. If love does not enter at night, he will find the 
door shut in the morning. To leave our happiness to 
the choice of our parents is dangerous. One marries for 
himself, not for his mother. Duty is a fine thing, but it 
does not replace the first holy tenderness of a heart 
that gives itself freely." 

" I do not know where you get your doctrines," said 
Jenny, in an austere tone ; " but you ought to respect 
your house enough not to bring such deplorable para- 
doxes here." 

" But, my dear, in every country of the globe, young 
girls choose their husbands. Look at America ?" 

*' Are we Iroquois ?" interrupted my wife. 

" Look at England, Germany, Spain even ; people 
marry there for love, and I do not see that the house- 
holds are any less happy than at Paris." 
■ " You have not common sense, Daniel." 

" That is to say, madam, one of us two is blinded by 
prejudice and reasons wrongly." 



342 PAEIS IN AMERICA. 

" Yes, sir, with the difierence that you are alone in 
your opinion, and that everybody in France thinks as 
I do." 

" Ah " murmured I, " behold my tyrant, Lord Every- 
body, again in my house. How much better my wife 
was in America !" 

To discuss was useless, to dispute is odious to me ; I 
had recourse to a remedy which Socrates lacked; I 
lighted my pipe and fell into a reverie. 

The peace did not last long. Henry entered the room 
and came timidly to embrace me. X looked at my son ; 
I had some difficulty to recognize him. He was no longer 
my bold volunteer, ready to set out for the East Indies 
or the battle-field ; but a handsome, slight, young 
man, with the mien of a doll. His hair was parted in 
the middle, like that of a woman ; he wore an embroid- 
ered shirt, standing collar, and Scotch ribbon, which 
served as a cravat ; his whole person was indescribably 
graceful, delicate and indolent — one would have called 
him a young girl in a paletot. 

" Where do you come from, my dear ?" said his 
mother. 

" From my hair-dresser's, mamma." 

His hair-dresser! My son in need of a barber! I 
gazed at him as a curiosity. 

" Have you been to the riding-school this morning ?" 
continued Jenny. 

" Yes, mamma, and to the fencing-school." 

" That is right," said I, " I like these manly exercises. 
A boy must learn to ride on horseback, swim, box, use 
the sword and pistol ; a civilized man should unceasingly 
combat tlie indolence of an enervating life ; but, my dear 



A PAEISIAN FAMILY. 34:3 

Henry, this is not all, it is necessary also to choose a,n 
occupation. You are sixteen ; you are a man. What 
are you going to do ?" 

"Poor love!" exclaimed Jenny, "let him enjoy his 
happiest days ; he is not yet even bachelor." 

" Well, let him become bachelor." 

" I have time enough, papa," said Henry, yawning. 
" Next year, you will give me a tutor." 

" To what purpose ?" said I. 

" Everybody takes tutors," said Jenny, shrugging her 
shoulders. " See the son of Petit, the banker. He 
knew nothing, he was an idiot. In three months, a 
practised man crammed a whole encyclopedia into his 
head ; he astonished even his examiners." 

" And three months after, he was as ignorant as on the 
first day." 

"What did it matter?" said Jenny; "he was bache- 
lor ; that title leads to everything." 

" Be bachelor, then, my son, and do not wait till 
next year; at seventeen, I wish you to enter a pro- 
fession." 

" He has yet to go through his studies !" said my 
wife. 

" Yes, spend three years in rambling in the Bois and 
elsewhere, except during a chronic malady styled the 
examination. Three years, the best of life, foolishly 
wasted in idleness or deplorable pleasures ! I will not 
have this. Let Henry first enter a profession, then he 
will study in earnest. Speak, my son, what profession do 
you choose ?" 

" Whatever you hke, papa," answered he, embracing 
his mother. Jenny smiled at him as if to say, " Have 
patience, my son, your father has not common sense." 



344: PAUIS IN AMERICA. 

"Have you no taste, no vocation?" asked I of 
Henry. 

" ■N'o, papa, that is your business. Provided I stay in 
Paris, ride on horseback, and amuse myself with my 
friends, it is all the same to me." 

" Dear child, how he loves us !" said Jenny, stroking 
his hair. 

" Amuse yourself!" exclaimed I, " where did you get 
such principles ? My son, we are not on earth to amuse 
ourselves. Labor is the command of God, the curb of 
our passions, the glory and happiness of life. In Ame- 
rica, there is not a man of your age that does not 
already support himself, and has not the consciousness 
of duty and dignity." 

" Daniel," said Jenny, with visible impatience, " why 
do you torment this poor child who is seeking only to 
please you. Wait a httle, he will do like others." 

" That is to say, he will do nothing." 

"He wiU have a place." 

"Just what I said," resumed I, indignant at this 
maternal weakness. " A place, that is the great word ; 
my son will be a clerk." 

"Everybody is now," said my wife. "Show me a 
young man of family that is anything else. Why should 
you make yourself singular ?" 

" What !" said I to Henry, " had you not rather be the 
artisan of your own fortunes, and owe your position only 
to your labor and talent ? , Is independence nothing ? 
Would you not like to be an advocate, physician, manu- 
facturer or merchant ?" 

" Why do you not propose to him to be a grocer ?" 
said Jenny, with a contempt that wounded me. 

"Very weU, madam! To weigh sugar on one's own 



A PAEI6IAN FAMILY. 345 

account is disgraceful; but to seal letters and file receipts 
on account of the government is noble and glorious ! 
And to attain this, it is necessary to entreat, to beg, to 
deny one's opinions, and to flatter men whose hand he 
would not take." 

" Everybody does the same," said Jenny. " Do you 
believe yourself wiser or more virtuous than the whole 
world ?" 

"Oh prejudice! prejudice!" I exclaimed. "Paul- 
Louis, thou art right ; we are a nation of valets." 

I was furious, I strode up and down the room, and 
struck my clenched fist on the table ; Henry hung his 
head and was silent ; Jenny, pale and with compressed 
Ups, followed mo with her eyes. 

" Daniel," said she, " put an end, I beg of you, to this 
ridiculous scene ; you forget that I am not strong enough 
to endure such excitement. When you are cool, I hope 
that you will listen to reason. At this moment, you 
know no longer what you are saying." 

" Madam," said I, " it seems to me that such language 
in the presence of my son is out of place ; you are want- 
ing in the respect you owe me." 

" My dear," said she, " you are ill." 

" Enough !" exclaimed I, " this pity is the heighth of 
indecorum. I will show you who is the head of the 
family. Despite your prejudices and despair, I will 
force my daughter to marry to her liking, I will force 
my son to choose a profession to his taste, and an inde 
pendent one." 

"Daniel, you are mad," said Jenny, clasping her 
hands. 

" I have my reason, madam, and I will teach you that 
I am master of my own house." 

15* 



346 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

" He is mad," cried my wife, bursting into tears ; and 
she threw herself on the neck of Henry, who began to 
weep. 

At this moment, the door was opened wide, and a 
voice announced, Dr. Olybrius. 



DOCTOK OLYBKIUS. 347 



CHAPTER XXXm. 

DOCTOR OLTBEIUS. 

He entered; I see him yet. A bald forehead, with 
locks of red hair floating right and left, gold spectacles, 
a sanctimonious smile, a triple chin buried in the depths 
of a broad cravat, a green coat with a ribbon bedizened 
with the colors of the rainbow — all announced the suc- 
cessful fool. Behind him walked, like two bailiff's fol- 
lowers, the advocate Reynard, who with his weasel eyes, 
seemed constantly seeking a hole in which to burrow, 
and the fat Colonel Saint-Jean, leaning on his crutch, and 
dragging along his belly and gout. What did this gro- 
tesque cortege wish of me ? Alas ! I was about to learn 
at my cost. 

" Good morning, fair lady," said Olybrius, -taking my 
wife's hand and carrying it to his lips ; " are you some- 
what recovered from your fatigue and emotion ? Spare 
yourself; the heart is the feeble organ among women ; 
do not suffer your sensibility to kill you." 

"Good morning, doctor," resumed he in a cavalier 
tone, extending me a hand which I dared not refuse ; " I 
am delighted to see you on your feet again. I present 
myself as a friend and not a physician, as I told these gen- 
tlemen, w^ho come as neighbors to learn of your health, 
and who dared not enter with me." 

" Good morning, M. Lefebvre," said the colonel. ^^Sao 
rehleu^ we have been sick then ? But we have a good 
constitution. I am glad to see you, sacrehleu /" 



348 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

" How are you ?" said Olybrius. 

" Very well," answered I. 

" So much the worse," said he, " it is unnatural ; it is 
a proof that the poison is not yet exhausted. After eight 
days' ravages caused by opium, you ought to be half 
dead, without pulse or voice." 

" He is made of iron," said the colonel. '•'■ Sacrehleu I 
what a carabineer he would have made !" 

" My dear brother," said I to Olybrius, " you have been 
mistaken in your diagnosis. My case is so extraordinary 
that any other scholar in your place would have equally 
wasted his Latin. I have not been poisoned by opium ; 
I have been magnetised and transported to America, 
whence I have returned this very night." 

" JBigre .'" cried the colonel, " this is strong ! I com- 
manded a regiment of Gascons once, that had not their 
equals for drawing the long bow and fighting, but you 
carry off the palm !" 

" My dear brother," said Olybrius, in a harshly gentle 
voice, " I always know what I say. The facts are at hand, 
and nothing is so rude as facts. That you imagine that 
you have been in America astonishes me httle ; it is the 
efiect of the of)ium; but I who have attended on you 
eight days and nights, I affirm to you that you have re- 
mained in flesh and blood in your bed, and that you have 
not quitted Paris." 

" Sir," answered I, " I come from a country where truth 
reigns without alloy. I have acquired an abhorrence of 
falsehoods, whether officious or official ; believe what you 
please, I can say but one thing ; in flesh or spirit, I know 
not which, I have passed eight days in America." 

"The cflfect of the opium," said Olybrius, taking out 
his snufi'-box, and inhaling a pinch of snuff. " The brain 



DOCTOK OLYBRIUS. 349 

is not clear, the illusion persists. My dear sir, it is ne- 
cessary to react with your reason, otherwise the cerebral 
lobes will become the seat of a grave and persistent dis- 
order. In such a case, as you know, the first thing is to 
expel a fixed idea, and to believe things on the word of 
your physician. You have not been in America," added 
he, scanning each of his words with an imperious tone. 
" Sir," said I, " permit me to keep my opinion." 
" Daniel," cried my wife, in tears, " for heaven's sake, 
do not insist, you are destroying yourself" 

*' Good God ! my dear," resumed I, smiling, " with 
what an air you say this. I seem to hear poor Rachel, 
as Roxana : 

" ' Listen, Bajazet ! I feel that I love you, 

You are destroying yourself ; beware how you let me go.' " 

For her only answer, Jenny raised her hands to heaven 
and, taking Henry by the hand, fled from the chamber, 
hiding her face in her handkerchief. 

" Sacrehleu .^" said the colonel, " you grieve your wife. 
The devil ! one may lie to please the ladies. You are 
not a Frenchman ! Sacrebleu V 

*' My dear neighbor," said the advocate, speaking in an 
undertone, as if beginning a plea, " let us reason on the 
matter. If you have been in America, you have seen the 
country in detail, you are thoroughly acquainted with it ; 
if you have been dreaming, your ideas on this point are 
only incomplete, confused, and in short, chimerical. Per- 
mit me to put to you a few questions which will bring 
you back into real life, and enable you to convince us 
yourself of the falsity or truth of your impressions." 

" Speak, sir, I am listening." 



350 PAKIS IN AMERICA. 

" During your stay in America, did you see men shoot- 
ing each other in the street ? Were two or three persons 
hung a day by virtue of that lamp-post justice — that 
Lynch law, the name of which the Americans borrowed 
from us, and perhaps the idea ?" 

" Sir," said I, " leave this stuff to the journals. The 
Americans are a hundred times more civilized and peace- 
able than we. Duelling even is unknown among them." 

" Sacrebleu .'" cried the colonel, " this is too much. 
To say that a country exists where men do not fight ! 
Are they all nuns of the Sacred Heart in the convent 
over yonder ?" 

" The effect of the opium," said Olybrius. " One 
sees everything on the bright side." 

" Say rather the dark side," rejoined the colonel. 
" Sacrebleu ! if I were in their barracks, I would slap 
them all in the face to see if they had any courage." 

" Is there a government in America ?" said the advo- 
cate ; " or, at least, did you find any trace of one by 
chance ?" 

" Sir," said I, " there is the finest of governments — 
that which administers the least ; that which leaves to 
the citizens the liberty of governing themselves." 

" The effect of the opium," returned Olybrius. " Every 
one knows that America is pure anarchy." 

*' Sir," said I, impatiently, " take the trouble to go to 
the United States ; you will find there a central govern- 
ment ; thirty-four individual States, thirty-five senates, 
and thirty-five houses of representatives. I do not sup- 
pose that savages would have ever invented such combi- 
nations.'' 

" Sacrebleu .'" said the colonel, " thirty-five nests of 
lawyers and praters! If such follies were possible, I 



DOCTOR OLYBKIUS. 351 

would make the voyage expressly to fling the brood out* 
of the window! Shoulder arms, cross ette! the birds' 
take flight; and then, sacrebleu! we have a govern- 
ment that does not sulk." 

" Are there ministries ?" resumed the advocate, in hia 
least shrill tone. 

"Of course." 

" A Ministry of Public Worship, for instance ?" 

" ISTo ; the churches are independent societies. Any 
one can open a church without having anything to fear, 
except the law." 

" It is impossible," said the advocate. " This vv^ould 
be to abandon society to the intrigues of the priests and 
sectarian hatreds. There would be a St. Bartholomew 
every day." 

" Sir," answered I, " the thing is, perhaps, impossible, 
but it exists ; and I add that in no country is there more 
tolerance and charity." 

" The effect of the opium," said Olybrius. 

" And not only is the church free," continued I, be- 
coming animated, " but the school and the hospital are 
so likewise. Any one can teach ; any one can relieve 
wretchedness, without needing to solicit the government 
and apply to the police, as if it were in question to open 
a house of ill-fame." 

" It is a dream," said the advocate. " It is materially 
impossible." 

" The effect of the opium," said Olybrius. 

" Dr. Olybrius," exclaimed I, " if any one has a fixed 
idea at this moment, it seems to me that I am not the 
one." 

*' I have no idea, Dr. Daniel," returned he ; "I call 
these honorable gentlemen to witness it. It sufiices for 



352 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

me to state that until now you have not said a word of 
common sense to us." 

" Is there a Council of State in America ?" resumed 
the advocate, who had all the tenacity of an examining 
magistrate. 

" No, sir ; the courts suffice for everything. The ad- 
ministration is amenable to them." 

" What a chimera !" said Reynajrd. " A people would 
not live six months without that admirable separation of 
powers, which makes the glory of our immortal Consti- 
tuent Assembly. Suppose that the safety of the State 
required your arrest, what would be done in your coun- 
try of Hurons ?'* 

" What would be done ?" replied I. " The course of 
proceedings is all arranged. The audacious man who 
placed himself above the laws would be indicted and 
sentenced to pay several hundred thousand francs' dam- 
ages." 

" Think of it ; what would become of the prefects ? 
Their occupation would be gone." 

" The prefects !" returned I. " There are none." 

" No prefects !" exclaimed he, laughing, " no prefects I 
What can the citizens do with no one to act for them ?" 

" Heavens !" exclauned I, " they transact their own 
business themselves. Did you never think of that, Mr. 
Statesman ?" 

" No," said lie drily, *' I do not think such things pos- 
sible. Who guides the public mind yonder, and teaches 
the citizens to think ?" 

" No one, assuredly." 

" What !" there is no superintendent of the press ?" 

" No, sir. In this country of Hurons, as you style it, 
every one says and prints what he pleases, under the sole 



DOCTOK OLTBEIUS. 353 

guarantee of the courts and the laws. Newspapers are 
considered there as a blessing : they are encouraged and 
multiplied on every side. There is no security, no stamp, 
nothing to hinder the diffusion of light, nothing to fetter 
liberty." 

" Bigre V said the colonel. " This is a country where 
the gendarmes must be busy." 

" There are no gendarmes, Mr. Colonel." 

" No gendarmes !'' exclaimed he. Sacrebleu t I am in 
love with it : I ask nothing more. If you are not crazy 
enough to be chained, neighbor, then tear down Charen- 
ton ! I never saw anybody of your calibre. No gen- 
darmes! Why not say immediately after — no army, no 
infantry, no cavalry, no artillery, no generals, no colo- 
nels, no captains ; a society of lambs or Iroquois, such as 
the world has never seen." 

"Colonel," said I, " for seventy years America had no 
army ; let peace come, and the Union be reestablished, 
and it will dispense with it anew. As you say, it is a 
society of lambs." 

" Enough, young man," said he, bending his brows ; 
"respect my white moustache. I am a good fellow, 
sacrebleii! but I have spitted those who had not tried 
to humbug me half as much as you have done within a 
quarter of an hour." 

" The effect of the opium," said Olybrius. " How could 
men live without gendarmes or army ? They might as- 
semble every hour in the day, in the street or elsewhere, 
to talk politics, find fault with the government, go armed, 
and I know not what besides." 

" Indeed, sir," resumed I, " all this is done, and the 
peace is not disturbed by it. Free citizens, accustomed 
to liberty, knoAV how to conduct themselves. In case of 



354 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

need, the law is at hand ; a police officer and a judge 
suffice to maintain order or avenge it." 

" Enough of this," said Keynard, casting a glance at 
Olybrius. " Doctor, I am convinced." 

" And medicine," said the solemn imbecile, twirling his 
snuff-box in his fingers, " how is it practised in your land 
of Cocagne ? " 

" That is one of the things which struck me most," 
answered I ; " women practice there, and with suc- 
cess." 

" JBigre .'" said the colonel. " Why had not I a major 
in petticoats when I was three months on my back at 
Constantine, with a ball in my calf? I would have given 
all the doctors in the world for one doctress ! It is a 
fine yarn, but it is good, sacrehleit .'" 

" And," added I, " this is not the only profession 
practised by women ; they have taken possession of 
teaching ; it is they who educate Young America." 

" This must make fine troopers !" said the colonel. " A 
nice school to teach the art of fisticuffs, the true appren- 
ticeship of war and civilization ! What come out of 
such shops ? Day-books and calicoes ?" 

" There have come out of them seven hundred thou- 
sand volunteers, who fight like heroes." 

" Sacrehleu ! " said the colonel, " don't recite the 
newspapers to me. For two years, my gazette has told 
me every morning of these famous conscripts, who chase 
without ever overtaking each other. Ah! if I were 
there, with nothing but my Light Fourteenth, how I 
would strike, no matter whom, according to the wish of 
tlie government ! I am over head and ears in America ; 
I wish the revolution would shift to some other country, 
to give me a little change and amuse me." 



DOCTOR OLYBKIUS. 355 

"Colonel, I do not suiDjDose that you would defend 
slavery." 

" What do I care for those half-whitewashed wretches ? 
But as for your Americans, I execrate them. They are a 
hea]^ of beggarly democrats who set the worst examples 
to Europe, and are a blot on civilization. I hope that 
the North A\ill swallow the South, and be choked with 
the morsel ! These are my pohtics, and I am not the 
only one of 'my opinion, sacrehleuV 

" Sir," said Olybrius, rising vv^ith majesty, "permit me 
to sum up our conversation in a few words. The answers 
of these gentlemen, your friends and neighbors — these 
answers, full of good sense and truth, ought to have 
convinced you that your brain is not in a normal state. 
A society without administration, without army, without 
gendarmes, with the savage liberty of praying, thinking, 
speaking, and acting, each in his own way, is, you must 
grant, one of those abominable nightmares which opium 
alone can bring forth. Your system would not last a 
quarter of an hour ; it is the negation of all the principles 
and conditions of that civilization which makes the unity 
of our great nation. By constituting a hierarchical and 
centralized administration, the wisdom of our fathers 
long since raised France to the first rank, and taught 
Frenchmen that liberty is obedience. In this is our 
glory and strength ; do not forget it, my dear brother, 
and return to yourself Tliese anarchical ideas which 
trouble your brain, and which have never before entered 
the head of a Frenchman, tell you plainly that you are 
ill, — and the more ill that you do not feel it. It is 
urgently necessary to watch over you ; I add, even, that 
nothing but heroic treatment can restore to you the pos- 
session of yourself and the calmness which you have lost.'' 



356 PAEIS m AMERICA. 

" Why do you not say at once that I am mad, and 
that it ia necessary to shut me up ?" 

Olybrius sighed, took snuff with his thumb and fore- 
finger, inhaled it slowly, and looked at me with a con- 
trite air : 

" My poor friend," said he, " you are seriously at- 
tacked ; but I will cure you ; I will save you despite 
yourself." 

I felt my anger rising in my heart, and with difiiculty 
restrained myself. 

" Sir," said I, " let us end this farce ; it has lasted too 
long ; I am tired of it." 

Olybrius blushed to the ears. 

" Sir," said he, raising his voice, " you assume a singu- 
lar tone !" 

" Don't get angry, my dear doctor ; you will give 
yourself a fit of apoplexy." 

" Doctor Daniel," said he, gnashing his teeth, " I do 
not suffer impertinence. Do you know to whom you are 
speaking, my little gentleman ?" 

" Yes, my fat gentleman ; to a fool !" 

" Sir," said he, " do not forget that you have before 
you a man whom all the sovereigns of Europe have deco- 
rated." 

" What does that amount to ?" exclaimed I. " One 
has a book of nonsense bound in red morocco, and 
deposits it at the embassy, upon which he is made Com- 
mander or Chevalier of the Hippopotamus or Condor. 
Crosses ! they are the alms which princes throw to 
the mendicants of literature." 

" Do you know, sir," rejoined Olybrius, foaming with 
rage, "do you know that, at thirty-two, I was unani- 
mously chosen member of the Academy of Medicine ?" 



DOCTOR OLYBEIUS. 357 

" The deuce !" replied I ; " I am nearer right than I 
thought. If you had had talent you would have had 
enemies ; you would have been kept waiting at the door 
until fifty years old, and would have only been received 
then by a majority of one. Fools stand in nobody's 
light, therefore they enter the Academy like a mill." 

I had gone a little too far ; I felt it. The colonel 
laughed till he cried, but Reynard looked at me strangely, 
and Olybrius was suffocating with rage. I saw the mo- 
ment approaching when the tables would be turned, and 
the patient Avould have to bleed the physician. The 
advocate, doubtless, had the ehxir of gold in his throat ; 
two words dropped into the ear of Olybrius restored to 
my imbecile all his serenity. A diabolical smile lighted 
up the wrinkles of his face. He approached the colonel, 
tapped him on the shoulder, and took him into a corner, 
followed by Reynard, his faithful counsellor. 

This style of acting, this cabal held in my house with- 
out me, appeared strange to me. I was striding up and 
down, ready to make a scene when Olybrius went out 
without saluting me ; Reynard, on the contrary, made 
me a low bow. The colonel approached me with a joyful 
air. His eyes sparkled. 

" Do you know," said he, rubbing his hands, " that 
you dressed out that parishioner finely ?" 

" I was wrong." answered I. 

" I do not say that," resumed Saint-Jean ; " you gave 
me real pleasure, sacrehleu ! I detest these sneaks who 
get themselves covered with decorations without ever 
having risked anything but other people's skin ; but be- 
tween ourselves, our man is not satisfied. It is natural, 
is it not? He says that you have insulted him, and 
demands that you shall apologize." 



358 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

" I," I exclaimed 

" Be tranquil," said the colonel ; " I have given him 
his answer ; he is reasonable. I have arranged the 
matter." 

" Very well." 

" You are to fight." 

" We are to fight ?" said I, greatly astonished. " And 
when ?" 

" At once. En ehaude colle^ as they used to say in 
the regiment. Nothing is so dangerous as to let these 
things get cold. By waiting twenty-four hours, I have 
lost ten opportunities. My carriage is below ; we can 
set out immediately. I have excellent pistols ; you will 
be delighted with them. At thirty paces I carried away 
the ear of a jackanapes with them who looked at me 
askance under the pretext that he squinted. Come, 
my brave fellow, the moments are numbered. On our 
way, sacrehleuV 

" In a moment I am yours," replied I. 

" You are going to embrace your wife and children. 
A bad plan ; it excites you and makes your hand trem- 
ble. No tragic adieus; drink a glass of Madeira and 
smoke a couple of cigars ; that will raise your courage 
and steady your wrist." 

I had no occasion to raise my courage, I was beside 
myself with anger. I entered the drawing room ; Jenny 
was there, pale and speechless, with her children clasped 
to her breast ; they had heard all. 

" Are you going with the doctor ?" said Jenny, in a 
despairing tone. 

" Yes, my dear ; I shall probably be absent a few days." 

" You will soon return," said she ; then paused, as if 
afii'ighted. 



DOCTOR OLTBEIUS. 859 

" Yes," answered I, " I shall soon return if it please 
God. Let me embrace you all before I go. 

"Adieu, my dear Henry, remember my counsels. 
Nothing has been done to cultivate your will; it is a 
great pity, for the passions take the place in the soul 
which the will does not occupy. Form for yourself 
studied convictions and an energetic character — these 
make the man. Choose an independent avocation ; ex- 
pect nothing but from yourself. Bow your head before 
no one, never have to blush before God, and never trou- 
ble yourself about the future. Happiness is not in the 
things of earth, but in the joy of a good conscience ; true 
greatness is that of an honest man who has elevated 
himself by labor and virtue. Adieu, be a Christian and 
citizen. Remember that, to surmount the selfishness 
which devours us, there are two invincible forces — the 
love of God and the love of liberty. 

" Adieu, my Susan ; choose your husl^and yourself. 
Look neither at position nor money, but at the heart ; 
therein is the only wealth that has nothing to fear from 
time or chance. Choose above all a man who esteems 
you and who shares your opinions ; be proud of the 
father of your children. Love takes flight, confidence 
and respect remain by the fireside, and become sweeter 
and more holy than love as old age draws nigh. If you 
have children, let their souls expand freely ; do not 
teach them the cruel wisdom of that society which 
reduces everything to interest; let them dream Uke 
their grandfather, should they sufier like him. The 
most unhappy here on earth are not those who weep. 

" Adieu, my dear Jenny, forgive me if I have wounded 
you, and permit me a last counsel. You Frenchwomen 
have too much wit and finesse ; it needs more simplicity 



360 PARIS m AMEKICA. 

to be happy. Why always go out ? the world can 
oflfer you nothing but agitation and ennui. Remember 
what St. Paul says — ' The man was not created for the 
woman, but the woman for the man.' Espouse your 
fireside, make it your pleasure to do the will of a hus- 
band ; be the queen of the hive where God has placed 
you — there is the happiness which you seek abroad, and 
which awaits you in vain in a deserted house. Ah ! my 
Jenny, would that we were in America ; there were love 
and felicity !" 

My wife was greatly agitated ; she wept, but at the 
last words she withdrew from my arms, and shrunk from 
me when I embraced her. Henry received my caresses 
with a cold and constrained air ; Susan alone hung on 
my neck, and inundated me with her tears. 

Once more I clasped them all to my breast, and de- 
parted never more to return. To descend the staircase 
and enter the carriage, where the colonel was aw^aiting 
me with his pistols, was the work of an instant. I asked 
Saint-Jean where we were going. 

" I know nothing about it," said he. " We are fol- 
lowing Olybrius' carriage. I think that he is taking us 
to Samt-Mande, to some private garden. Since Vin- 
oennes and the Bois-de-Boulogne have been disfigured to 
make English parks of them, there is no more pleasure 
to be had. Fight in a Avinding path, and foil the people 
who track you to rake the mark of your footsteps, if you 
can. We have no duelling-ground at Paris ; it is a shame 
on old French honor, sacrehleu P'' 

The colonel was monotonous and repeated the same 
things over and over again ; I hastened to ofler him a 
cigar to shut his mouth and, sinking into the corner of 
the carriage, I followed the French fashion of reflectinic?' 



DOCTOK OLYBEIUS. 361 

when it is too late. At my age, and for sucli a cause, 
this duel was a piece of folly into which I had let myself 
be drawn by a brute and a fool. I was determined not 
to answer Olybrius' fire ; but this did not justify me. 
What ! I had not had strength to resist a stupid preju- 
dice ! My thoughts and remorse carried me to America ; 
I saw again those mild and honest faces, those good and 
sincere friends who had raised me to their level. Truth, 
Humbug, N'aaman, Green, Brown himself smiled on me, 
and with them all that American family which had made 
the joy of my heart, without forgetting either Martha or 
Sambo. What a difference between the two countries ! 
The Paris where I was appeared to me a stranger city ; 
the streets of my childhood had disappeared, and my 
memories with them ; my neighbors seemed to me igno- 
rant, vain and egotistical; their actions, their language, 
all was conventional ; no truth, no simplicity. In eight 
days, in Massachusetts, in the pure air of liberty, I had 
lived more than at Paris in fifty years. My eyes were 
opened, I had put off the old man ; my country was yon- 
der, where I was beloved ; my soul took flight beyond 
the ocean. 

Buried in these reveries, I did not return to myself 
until aUghting from the carriage. We were in the court- 
yard of a large house with grated windows, something 
like a college, convent or prison. At the back was a 
garden, which Reynard pointed out to me as the place 
of combat, and invited me to repair thither while he 
arranged the conditions of the duel witli the colonel and 
a couple of friends. 

I advanced without suspicion ; all at once a grating- 
was shut behind me ; I turned round, four strong men 
seized me by the arms and legs; I resisted like a mad- 

16 



362 



PARIS IN AlklERICA. 



man ; I shrieked, my voice was stifled. In the twinkling 
of an eye, I was carried into a low hall, thrown down, 
secured, and fastened in an easy-chair. Everything be- 
gan to whhi before my eyes with incredible velocity ; a 
sheet of icy water fell on my head, and I fainted. 



A MADMAN. 363 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A ilADilAN. 

Samt-Mande^ house of Dr. Olyh'ius. 

Apeil 20, 18G2. 

There are three sorts of persons whom the law dis- 
dains and abandons to the administration — unmarried 
women, hmatics and journalists. But, whatever may be 
their profligacy (I speak of the journalists), or whatever 
may be their fault, I esteem these wretched beings un- 
worthy neither of justice nor pity. If they are criminals, 
why not try them ? If they are unfortunate, why treat 
them as criminals ? I recommend the question to j^hi- 
lanthropists out of emj^loyment. It is noble to ransom 
young Chinese, it is noble to save from the fire Mala- 
bar widows who follow their husbands even unto death 
(the example might be contagious) ; but it would not 
perhaps be wrong to defend humanity in France, and to 
give the guaranties of the common law to poor creatures, 
victims of education, birth and society. Another dream 
which I must keep to myself, or beware of shower-baths 
and bleeding ! 

. My fate is fixed ; I have played a dangerous game, and 
lost. A fool, who entitles himself a physician, has de- 
clared me mad ; my good friends joyfully confirm the de- 
cree of ignorance. Here \ am shut up, and forever. 
Can I extinguish the flame which illumines my brain ? 
Can I deny the truth ? No ; I have known liberty ; I 



364 PAEIS IN AlVIEEICA. 

have tasted on my lips this intoxicating honey, I have 
caught a glimpse of the eternal ideal, I am mad ! I will 
not be cured ! 

Frenchmen have even more wit than they attribute to 
themselves. To imprison those who think, speak and 
reason is a master-stroke, the success of which is infal- 
lible. Where force is, there is public opinion. Go, 
happy sheep, browse in silence ; bleat to yourselves that 
you are the kings of the world, your shepherds will not 
be the ones to refuse you this innocent pleasure. Amuse 
yourselves, enjoy life, you have nothing to fear ; the mad 
men are under bolts, they would disturb your quietness ; 
the wiser one is, the more he laughs. 

My wife does not come to see me, she is so sensitive ! 
She would die of pity. I do not want my children. 
Poor Henry, if he should get my disease, how would he 
make a fortune ? And you, my Susan, I love you too 
well to make you weep. A daughter's tears are the only 
trial that could shake a martyr. 

My neighbors have not forgotten me. Rose writes 
me that he is not surprised at my misadventure. He 
recognizes in it the hand of the Jesuits ; my Avife went 
too often to mass ! He is on the track of a vast plot 
framed by the reverend fathers ; it is they, says he, Avho 
set the North on the South, who stir up Europe, who 
pave the way for the downfall of the Sultan. Every 
revolution is their work ; they are the cause of every 
calamity ; his journal has revealed to him this mystery 
of horror and iniquity. Rose is a sane man, since he 
walks the streets ; I am mad, since I am confined. 

Here is a letter from the colonel. The brave Saint- 
Jean apologizes for having aided in my arrest without 
knowing it. 



A MADMAN. 365 

He wished, he says, to cut off Olybrius's ears, but the 
puppy refused to submit to the operation. The colonel 
adds, that if he has wronged me he is ready to make repa- 
ration. To deprive me of the right of complaint, he pro- 
poses that we shall mutually blow out each others' brains. 
The stakes are unequal; I cannot accept this amiable 
proposition. Saint Jean talks politics to me ; he foresees 
war breaking out on all sides this spring, and his joy is 
prodigious. He is a soldier ; he is convinced that men 
are on earth to slaughter each other. If mothers, 
through infinite pangs, rear their sons to twenty, it is to 
send them to the shambles. The colonel is free, he is a 
reasonable man ; I am mad ! 

Let us read the journal. I am no longer but a specta- 
tor who, from his grated cell, watches the comedy and 
actors. I will use the only right that is left me : I will 
hiss ! 

" A new work has just appeared by Mr. Eeynard, our great 
orator and celebrated publicist. This book, which cannot fail 
to open to the author the doors of the Academy of Political and 
Moral Sciences, is entitled Unity. M. Reynard demonstrates 
irrefutably that all the sufferings and revolutions of France pro- 
ceed from a single cause— the weakness of centralization. Now 
that railroads and telegraphs have suppressed distance, France, 
the model nation, can at last find a constitution which will per- 
mit her to fulfill her great destinies. The author unites the spir- 
itual power and temporal power in the same hands ; an admirable 
invention to put an end to the dissensions which have rent the 
world for fifteen centuries ; he suppresses the municipal coun- 
cils, the general councils, the Chambers, the press, and all those 
means of opposition, excusable, perhaps, at a critical epoch, in 
an age of struggle and transition, but which have no longer 
reason to exist in an organic century such as ours, and with the 
first centralistic race on the globe. A single man, a civilizing 



366 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

pope, placed at the nucleus of the state, having in his cabinet 
the key of the telegraphic network, will govern all France by 
his infallible and irresistible will. The organ of the popular 
sovereignty, he will be the democracy personified, the nation 
incarnated. Thenceforth, nothing can longer fetter progress; 
all divisions will cease ; all the heads of anarchy will fall at one 
blow. 

" On entering into details, it is impossible not to be fascinated 
by the simplicity of the system. This is the mark of all great 
inventions. Henceforth, there will be no longer in France but 
one soul and one thought. The whole country will be a great 
and ingenious piece of mechanism, conducted and regulated by 
a single motive power. What could disturb this great harmony, 
formed by the accord of a single note ? One self-same dispatch, 
repeated in the forty thousand communes, will transform forty 
million citizens from night to morning. ' Work,' the telegraph 
will say ; and directly there will be work for every one. ' Be 
instructed ; ' ignorance will cease. ' Be virtuous ; ' the Bourse 
will be closed. 'Be happy; ' our happiness will be achieved. 

"It is incredible that humanity should have lived so long 
without realizing this marvelous discovery, which will immortal- 
ize the name of M. Reynard. But what ! steam is of yesterday, 
and the electric telegraph is of to-day ! Our kings, moreover, 
have had the consciousness of this truth, which a man of genius 
places in full light. Without ever troubling themselves about 
right or justice, our great sovereigns have always thrown down 
all opposition which impeded their course ; it is for this that 
history admires the Francis I., the Richelieus, the Louis XIY., 
and the Napoleons. Saint-Simon caught a glimpse of this glori- 
ous reform ; but the honor of being its prophet belongs, without 
partition, to the illustrious and profound Eeynard. There is 
not a Frenchman that does not envy him his discovery and suc- 
cess!" 

" Alas ! " thought I, " M. Reynard walks abroad, and 
goes where he will; he is admired and envied; he is 



A MADMAN. 367 

more than a philosopher, he is a great man ; and I am 
mad ! " 

What do I see ? The name of my executioner ! What 
can this intriguer be doing ? Let us see : 

" Yesterday the Academy of Medicine received a communica- 
tion of the highest interest. One of our medical heads, the cel- 
ebrated insane doctor, Olybrius, read a paper on wit, genius, 
and madness. He demonstrated that, through tlie effect of the 
sympathetic tie which unites the functions of the brain with 
those of the stomach, this last organ unmistakably produces 
and rules all those nervous forces popularly called faculties. 
Wit is a nervous affection, genius a chronic gastritis, and mad- 
ness an acute gastritis. In support of his system, the doctor 
cites a very curious example. At this moment he has in his 
hands a most valuable subject for experiment. This is a certain 
Doctor L , who, in his madness, imagine-s that he was sud- 
denly transported to America, and remained there a whole 
week. There is in the delirium of this unfortunate man a mix- 
ture of hallucinations, memories, and original ideas, which Doc- 
tor Olybrius follows and observes with the greatest care. The 
malady is in the highest degree acute, but the learned Olybrius 
does not despair of reducing it to the chronic state, and trans- 
forming its character, by dint of bleeding, shower-baths, and a 
skillfully regulated diet. If he succeeds, the problem is solved. 
From a madman half cured, will be made a man of genius. As 
soon as the experiment is ended, the learned doctor will submit 
the subject to the inspection of the Academy. It is unnecessary 
to point out the consequences of this prodigious discovery. 
France is in need of great men, when nothing would be easier 
than to manufacture them and furnish them to the whole world. 
At Charenton alone there are three thousand patients, who, 
with judicious treatment, in less than six months might bo 
transformed into poets, musicians, and artists of every kind. 
There are unknown Mozarts and Raphaels there by hun- 
dreds. 



368 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

"The lecture, sprinkled with striking traits and ingenious 
sayings, was listened to in profound silence, frequently inter- 
rupted by flattering murmurs. No one has more wit than 
Doctor Olybrius ; to hear him, we might fear for his health ; 
but to see him, we are reassured by the solidity of his muscles 
and the vigor of his lungs." 

Triple fool ! less silly nevertheless than those who lis- 
ten to thee ! thou art a scholar, an academician, a philo- 
sopher ; and I, who hiss thee, am mad ! 

ISTo, I w^Ul not return into this society, full of vanity, 
which is afraid of the truth, and which is caught like 
larks, by the dazzle of a mirror. If the crowd rejects 
me, I for my part exile it from my peaceful abode ; soli- 
tude restores me liberty. Here I vrish to Hve and die, 
consoled by the Gospel, surrounded by those old friends 
who are always faithful and never lie to me — Socra- 
tes, Demosthenes, Cicero, Dante, Cervantes, Louis de 
Leon, Milton. You, too, poets, orators and citizens, men 
disdained, execrated, exiled, imprisoned, assassinated. 
Madmen and seditious spirits during your life, you be- 
came sages and patriots after your death. The world 
erects altars to the victims whom it has slain. The his- 
tory of humanity is the history of martyrs. 

Why should I not have my home ? If I am not a 
great man, have I not supported a great cause ? Who 
knows whether my country, disgusted with the insipidi- 
ties that enervate it, will not forgive me my reserve and 
harshness? "What is bitter in the mouth is sweet in the 
belly," says a proverb ; so it is with truth. It is healthy 
as the scent of the grass and trees, as the wind which 
passes over the glaciers and ocean ; he who has lived in this 
bracing air suffocates in the low grounds and marshes. 

1 hope against all hope, I am mad. If I were wise, I 



A MADMAN. 3G9 

should do like the shrewd ; I should resign myself and 
shout with the crowd. I will have none of these sadden- 
ing joys, I like better my prison and my dream. 

Every morning, in the silence of my wretched cell, a 
vision consoles me. I behold in the distance the whiten- 
ing summits — it is the breaking of the dawn, the dawn 
of a day which I shall never see, but what matter ? What 
is that luminous point which pierces the horizon and 
seems to drive away the fleeing shadows ? It is the New 
Jerusalem, the city of the future. There, all is changed ; 
the last vestiges of paganism have disappeared ; the indi- 
vidual commands, he is king. Respected by all as he re- 
spects others, he is the sole master of his actions, alone 
responsible for his Hfe, he has nothing to fear from the 
laws. The Church has reconquered evangelical independ- 
ence, she has broken that adulterous chain which Con- 
stantine imposed on her to the misfortune of the world. 
Returned to her divine spouse, she is the curb, consola- 
tion and hope of souls ; the Gospel is the charter of li- 
berty. Scattered broadcast, education opens hearts to 
the truth ; charity, the work of all, gives scope to that 
instinct of union, that need of common action which 
makes the greatness of societies. The province has re- 
sumed its ancient vigor ; the love of the village doubles, 
while strengthening the love of the whole country. 
The commune has broken the bonds which hold it; 
it lives, it acts ; it calls and retains its children within its 
limits. The Times is no longer the organ of France; 
the press is free; every one says what he thinks and 
thinks what he says. Confined within its bounds, the 
State is no longer but a blessing. Outside, it is the sword 
of the country, within it is the law, nothing less, nothing 
more. Truth, justice, liberty, ye shine in this new sky hke 



370 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

pacific stars ; before you are eclipsed the scourges of old 
Europe — despotism, intrigue, and falsehood. France, 
happy and proud, blossoms out in abundance and peace, 
it is the example and envy of nations ; there it is glorious 
to live, there it is sweet to die. 

Such is my dream ; it casts into my prison an indescrib- 
able, serene light which warms my heart. How glorious 
will it be on the day when the masks shall fall and the 
madmen be the sages, the sages the madmen! Then, 
about the year 2000, pious pilgrims as numerous as the 
sands on the seashore will visit the cell where, a new 
Daniel, I foretold the future. Then, too, some curious 
men, some antiquarians, laboring continually to do nothing, 
will seek beneath the rubbish of the past, what certain 
varieties of Frenchmen of the nineteenth century could 
have been — varieties disappeared forever, like the carlin, 
the everlasting regret of porters. It will be asked what 
was the devourer of Jesuits, the leather breeches, the 
inventor of centralistic races, the adorer of the God- 
State. And the father, passing through the halls of the 
Museum of Natural History, will point out to his aston- 
ished children a gigantic bottle where, embalmed in 
spirits, with his crosses and diplomas, will repose the last 
of the Olybriuses. 

Amen, amen^ amen, AMEIST ! 



A SAGE. 371 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

A SAGE. 

Doctor Olyhrius^ etc.^ etc.^ to Madame Daniel Lefebme. 

"Dear Madame: 

"Our poor friend has suffered greatly. He is a 
little better : he eats, drinks, and sleeps, and no longer 
has a wiU of his own. 

" The crisis was terrible. As soon as we attempted to 
treat him, he became furious. It is one of the most cha- 
racteristic symptoms of this fatal malady. The French- 
man is naturally gentle, amiable, polite ; always ready to 
do what his masters, friends, or wife prescribes. See the 
history of our glorious Revolution ! To save France, and 
inoculate it with the love of equahty, justice, and frater- 
nity, the Convention placed all Frenchmen outside the 
protection of the law. It ruined, exiled, deported, can- 
nonaded, shot, and guillotined them. Did a single one 
resist? Is there anything to-day more justly popular 
than this immortal Assembly ? But, alas ! As soon as 
madness seizes him, the Frenchman becomes willful and 
wricked. If he is arrested, he resists ; if he is shut up, he 
rebels : he thinks and speaks only of liberty. Such is the 
intellectual and moral degradation which a violent nerv- 
ous affection produces among our enfeebled subjects. 

"This is what happened to our poor friend. Hap- 
pily for him, I was on the watch. Two profuse bleed- 



372 PARIS IN AMERICA. 

iiigs, three violent iDurgations, and icy shower-baths have 
restored to him the cahnness of which he was in need. 
The disease, I hope, is j^assing the acute stage. In be- 
coming chronic, it will give surprising results, on which 
I found the hope of my reputation. 

"At this moment he is tranquil. He busies hims'elf in 
scribbling, too certain a proof, alas ! that he is still far 
from a cure. I send you this trash, which he entitles 
Paris in America. I have refrained from retrenching 
anything in it, even the abuse which he addresses to me, 
and which falls at my feet. The chevalier of twenty- 
seven orders, and member of thirty-three foreign aca- 
demies and eighty-two provincial societies — my name 
has nothing to fear from time or envy. France has 
always venerated the Olybriuses. Beware, however, 
of speaking or printing such follies. Nothing is more 
contagious than chimera. The brain of man is weak, 
and nervousness is a malady always to be distrusted. 
Lock up these papers ; they will be of use to you in pro- 
curing a too necessary interdiction. I do not suppose 
that any reasonable Frenchman, acquainted with his age 
and country, could read two pages of these dreams with- 
out declaring that their author is mad, and that it is 
necessary to keep him confined. 

*' Let us come to yourself, dear madame. Permit me 
to touch on a delicate point. Sensitive as you are, you 
need the greatest care : see the world ; surround your- 
self Avith society ; seek to distract yourself, ennui would 
be fatal to you. I prescribe for you distractions and 
pleasure. Return to life ; accustom yourself to an inde- 
pendence and solitude, which all your friends will strive 
to alleviate. Do not cherish vain hopes ; these emotions 
would weaken your health, already too much shaken. 



A SAGE. 373 

The poor doctor will never return home. Whatever 
form his disease may assume — even though it should 
become a literary madness resembling genius — it will 
always be necessary to keep under restraint a man as 
dangerous to his family as to society. You may believe 
me, dear madame ; science is infallible, and an Olybrius is 
never mistaken. The madness of love is cured when one 
is young ; if old, he. dies of it ; the madness of ambition 
yields sometimes to age and the contempt of mankind; 
the madness of liberty is never cured. 

" I place myself at you feet, dear madame, etc." 



FINIS, 



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